Of Visions and Victory
by piece2gether
Summary: Professor Umbridge curses Harry after she discovers him using the floo in her office. This begins a story in which Harry doesn't get the opportunity to go to the Department of Mysteries...and neither does Sirius. How can one change impact the future? Focuses on the bonding between characters who never had the chance to bond more in the actual stories. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, and these are not my characters. I just wanted to explore a story. That said, the bold and italicized section is directly quoted from pages 746-747 of OotP.

1

**_"You're forcing me, Potter…. I do not want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use…. I'm sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice…." _**

**_Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face._**

**_"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly. _**

**_"No!" Shrieked Hermione, "Professor Umbridge, - its illegal"- but Umbridge took no notice. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face that Harry had never seen before. She raised her wand. _**

**_"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" Cried Hermione. _**

**_"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, who was now panting as she pointed her wad at different parts of Harry's body in turn, apparently trying to decide what would hurt the most. "He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same…." _**

**_It was _****you****_?" gasped Harry. "_****You****_ sent the dementors after me?"_**

**_"_****Somebody****_ had to act,' breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to a rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow - discrediting you- but I was the only one who actually did something about it….Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now…"_**

**_And taking a deep breath, she cried "Cruc-"_**

**_"NO!" Shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. "No- Harry- Harry, we have to tell her!"_**

**_"No Way!" yelled Harry at what little he could see of Hermione_**_._

That was enough for Umbridge who triumphantly yelled "Crucio!"

Harry fell to the ground curling in on himself. Pain exploded from his limbs, from the small bones in his fingers down to his toes. His forehead exploded. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. It ended after a few seconds, and Umbridge, while angry, held nothing on Voldemort. He trembled but got back on his feet glaring at her. He could feel blood running down his fingertips and knew his hand must have split back open.

He gritted his teeth. Sirius was hurting- maybe dying- and this was wasting time. Harry's head echoed with Sirius's screams. He needed to _help_ him. Harry stumbled closer to the fireplace. A plan was beginning to form. The floo powder was just on the floor. It was right by his feet where he had been kneeling before they were caught.

"Harry…" pleaded Hermione, "_please_, Harry, let's just tell her." Her eyes were wide and wet.

"Er-my-o-knee," Ron choked. Unable speak, he shook he head desperately. He looked at Harry looking for direction.

"I'm- so- sorry" gasped Hermione from her squashed position. Umbridge had her wand pointed at Harry again.

"You're hurting your friends, Harry." She admonished in a voice suited for scolding two year olds. "If you stopped telling lies and answered my questions all of this could end." Harry didn't respond. Her eyes and wand focused on his bleeding hand. She looked at it with curiosity.

"Hurts doesn't it," she whispered mockingly, repeating herself from their first detention together. "Crucio"-

Again, the pain was all encompassing. He tried to focus on where he had landed, on how close the floo powder was. He wanted to focus on feeling, on seeing, it had to be near his hand. He couldn't focus on anything though. Thinking hurt. All that was, was pain. It stopped suddenly, unexpectedly. Harry lay on the ground twitching.

"YOU BITCH!" Screeched Hermione.

"50 points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger." Umbridge barked. Hermione's eyes were wide, shocked at the language she had used.

"Who were you trying to contact?!" Umbridge yelled again.

Harry used his reprieve to focus on breathing. He took big gulps of air. The ground under him hurt, the fibers of the pink rug stabbing at his oversensitive skin. He opened his eyes again. Seeing the floo powder jar on his left he let his hand tip it over, grasping a small handful as he pulled himself to his elbows. He glared at Umbridge, lips in a thin line of defiance. He was steeling himself, bracing for what he knew was next. Torture was repetitive. At least, in his experience it was. Well, he wasn't going to talk, or beg, or do anything to give her the satisfaction. _Sirius, Sirius, Sirius_, repeated in his head. Ron, though standing resolutely, had tears dripping down his cheek and onto the fabric of his gag.

Harry returned his gaze to Umbridge expectantly. Defiantly- He had faced Voldemort four times now, and she was just a stupid, power-hungry toad.

"Don't worry about biting back your screams, Mr. Potter, there's a silencing charm on my office. No one will wonder where you and your friends are for quite some time, I think." Her voice was sweet, annoyingly placating again. Ginny stomped on her captor's foot, but it did no good. _Snape knows_, thought Harry. But then, why would Snape care? Harry had given him the clue, and he hadn't done anything. He hated Sirius and Harry. He had no reason to help them. Umbridge's wand was once again on Harry, pointed at his heart.

"Nuuuuh!" Ron's voice, though strangled, was loud and desperate.

"What's that, Mr. Weasley, volunteering yourself?" She placed her finger on her chin, staring at Harry longer. "Perhaps it is better that way…What do you think, Mr. Potter, willing to talk under the threat of your friend's pain?"

"NO!" Harry looked desperately at Ron, how could this be happening? Harry had no choice, he couldn't explain Sirius, or Voldemort, or Dumbledore to Umbridge. Too many secrets, too many lives at stake. Ron stared into Harry's eyes with an unwavering gaze. Harry understood. Ron would give Harry a break, give him time to think of a cover story. Harry was horrified. Ron didn't understand what he was doing. He didn't know how much it hurt. Harry's mind raced, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would remove Ron from the awful situation.

"Un-be-lievable, Mr. Potter, first responsible for Mr. Diggory's death, and now you refuse to step up and prevent a classmates pain? The lengths your stubbornness goes to is astounding. Do you care so little for your friends?" Ron was pushed to the center of the room next to Harry. He pulled his gag down as his arms were released.

"I said no!" Harry was as close to begging as he'd ever been. "Please, Professor, he was just trying to help me! All of this is my fault, they've done nothing wrong."

"Yes, but you can't help him unless you tell me the truth." She spoke with sickening finality. "Watch this, Mr. Potter, see what your lies cost!" Umbridge spoke turning her wand from Harry's chest to Ron's, keeping eye-contact the entire time. Harry was about to launch himself across the room to tackle her when, just like that day in detention, Harry's scar burned. Then the world slipped out of focus and he was falling back into the Department of Mysteries…

He heard His voice. High, and cold, bereft of humanity. Harry saw the wand clasped in his pale hand. "_Crucio!"_

Sirius screamed, writhing on the floor. "See, Black, it's been hours, no one is saving you, no one is coming." Sirius looked up with haunted eyes, a taunt face.

"Kill me then," he swallowed, a drop of blood slowly streaking down from his nose and over his lips. "Please, just kill me, I can never do what you want."

"Bella," Voldemort whispered. She slid next to Him. Harry watched as she practically oozed devotion. Her chest rose with each gulp of air she took. She was practically panting. Harry raised one white hand and touched her warm cheek withdrawing as she leaned into him. She was so predictable.

"Help me coerce our captive." Bellatrix's lips spread into a garish smile revealing her blackened teeth. Harry laughed coldly as Sirius began screaming again, rolling on the floor in agony. As Sirius stilled Harry heard His voice ask for the Prophesy one last time. Sirius did nothing.

"Your time is up, Black." Voldemort whispered. "Your dear Godson hasn't come to save you, you know, I thought he loved you. But even I, Lord Voldemort, can be wrong" Sirius's eyes flicked up at the assessment of Harry's level of affection just as Voldemort screamed "_Avada-Kedavra!_" And Sirius lay still…open eyes staring at Voldemort in frozen horror.

Harry though, was not still. His scar burned as though he was being branded by a hot poker, as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. His entire body was trembling fiercely, and his head was spinning. _He was too late, he was too late, he was too late, it was all his fault he was too late_. Shaking uncontrollably he turned his head and vomited over Umbridge's stupid pink rug.

"MR. POTTER! Histrionics are not tolerated!" Her face was purple and from his position on the floor the resemblance to Uncle Vernon was uncanny. It would have been had Harry been paying attention, but he was numb. He could barely breathe, blood pumped in his ears, he could feel tear tracks down his face, and he was so cold. It couldn't be real. He could _not_ have been too late. After Cedric he had vowed to never be too late again. Ron reached over terrified gripping Harry's frozen hands. Harry's scar was bright, enflamed on his forehead.

"Wow, Potter," sneered Malfoy, "Didn't know you and the Weasel were so…_intimate_. Gonna kiss him better, Weasley?" Whatever retort Ron might have made was lost as Umbridge opened her mouth.

"MR. POTTER!" Umbridge shrieked, "You will pull yourself together, and clean up this mess!" But Harry couldn't hear her. For a second only Ron existed in Harry's anguish. His brown eyes were wide and afraid.

"Harry, mate… you ok?" He whispered. Harry still hadn't stopped shaking. Ron turned to look at Hermione. Tears streaked down her face and she was chewing on her lip trying to get her chin from quivering.

"Was it…?" Ron asked. Harry's eyes were squeezed closed. His fists were clenched tight. He pressed his hot forehead against the floor, trying to press the last of the pain away. But he'd never really be able to. Sirius was dead. He knew that. He had watched it happen. Sirius had died thinking that Harry didn't love him enough to save him. He felt utterly crushed. He wanted to die too. What would he tell Remus? When Harry finally did die how could he answer to Sirius, what would he say to his father? His entire body was shaking. Sirius was dead; and it was because he didn't get to the Department of Mysteries in time. This was all his fault. All his fault.

"Was _what_, What?! He's clearly vying for attention!" Umbridge was mid-temper tantrum when Harry snapped out of it.

He was so angry. Consumed by not only his own anger and desperation but by Voldemort's. He was on his feet in a second.

He couldn't speak, He was trembling and tense, his mind was running at a mile a minute. Looking at Umbridge he wanted nothing more than to make her suffer. If she hadn't delayed him he could have found him, he could have saved him! But what could he do now?! _Sirius, Sirius, Sirius_.

The windows shattered. Harry stared in shock as the glass exploded everywhere but on him. Ron had pulled him to the ground anyway and shielded him with his body. Just as they lifted their heads two spells were yelled and Ron shoved Harry into the fire place. Harry's hands opened in shock releasing the floo powder.

"Number 12, Grimmauld Place" Ron said in a rushed whisper throwing his own small bit of floo dust after him.

As the green flames surrounded Harry a new pain erupted from his scar. Voldemort was angry, and there was no vision this time. Just pain, endless, nerve searing pain. Harry accepted it. Sirius was dead, it was all his fault. He deserved this pain, and a voice inside his head, that was not quite his own, agreed.

He didn't even notice when he fell out onto the hard floor of Sirius's living room, or when a panicked voice began calling his name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling. I just really love her characters.**

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Severus Snape stood in the doorway of Professor Umbridge's office. Wand still pointed at the same level that Umbridge's heart had been. The entire room was dead silent. Snape slowly lowered and pocketed his wand.

"Inquisitorial Squad. Go immediately to my office. Talk to no one. Leave their wands on the table" Snape's tone was threateningly controlled.

"But, Sir!" protested a larger Student.

"Leave. I believe I made it perfectly clear that I would take care of them." Everyone in the room understood who the "them" were

Malfoy and his cronies released their fellow students and retreated from the room. Draco was giving professor Snape a long hard look as he passed, a small smirk upturned his thin lips.

"Stay." Professor Snape commanded as Ron had moved to take his wand and leave as well. Ron grabbed his and Harry's wands and moved back stepping in front of Ginny who then promptly sidestepped around him so to be at his side.

"Sir," stumbled Hermione, "What should we do about Professor Umbridge?" Professor Umbridge was lying stunned on her pink carpet. The kittens adorning the walls mewed as they paced their frames and starred down at her.

"I will inform Madam Pomfry that she is in need of assistance." His voice was low and cold. "Why were you imbeciles in her office, where is Potter?"

The students all looked at him with wide eyes. Hermione's chin was quivering again.

"What happened?" Snape was clearly losing patience. "Weasley." He barked. "Describe the situation. Longbottom, sit down before you pass out." Neville had gone very white. Neville weakly sat down on one of the chairs that had the appearance of being very plush, but was, in actuality, very uncomfortable. Ron lifted his chin and squared his shoulders before he opened his mouth. It was a very _Gryffindor_-like action and Snape found himself sneering in annoyance.

"Padfoot is in trouble. I think he might be dead." In his head Snape had to admit that Ron did well to remember code names with Longbottom and Lovegood in the room. Sirius Black was, in fact, alive. He had run to check directly after Potter's warning.

"And Mr. Potter?"

"I pushed him into the fire and tried to send him to headquarters. I don't know if it worked…" Ron trailed off at the end. And Snape could observe his short lived bravado failing him. He appeared to be lightly trembling, obviously his adrenaline was wearing off. Snape considered the potential courses of action before deciding.

"What caused the windows to shatter?" The windows of Hogwarts were protected by charms that shielded the windows from attack, whatever caused them to shatter had to be extreme.

"Sir," Hermione began, "We don't know what happened to make them shatter. Harry was very upset. It just happened."

"Get to the point Ms. Granger, why was Mr. Potter so upset?" Probably just because he got caught, stupid, arrogant, boy.

"Professor Umbridge, she… she… well…"

"She used the cruciatus on him," interrupted Neville softly. He was wringing his hands in his lap, eyes downcast. Snape's eyes widened minutely. He had not expected that. He had simply come running when the castle sent a distress signal.

"Did it happened then?" Snape focused on keeping his voice monotone and uninterested.

"No," whispered Hermione, "he suffered another attack, I think." She tried to explain herself better, "…Like with Mr. Weasley. He was in a lot of pain, he was holding his head, and he threw-up when it was over."

That much was evident by the small puddle of bile near the fireplace.

"It was after that. He stood up and stared at professor Umbridge. He was really angry. And that's when the widows broke." She finished lamely.

"Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Lovegood, you will wait for their Heads of House in their respective dorm rooms. You may leave now."

Neville stood quickly, eyes wide and on Ron and Hermione. How could they be expected to leave? They had a right to know what was going on. Harry was his friend and classmate too. He couldn't allow himself to be put in the shadows, he needed to know what he could do to help.

"Mr. Longbottom, leave, now." Snape's tone left no room for argument. Luna placed a hand on his shoulder as they slowly exited the room. She looked back calmly as they rounded the corner. Neville stopped in the doorway.

"I don't have a Head of House." He stated. His mouth dropped open at the realization he was talking back to his most feared professor.

"Sir, I don't have a Head of House." Neville repeated with more confidence.

"Fine," said Snape grudgingly, "Follow me." Snape turned abruptly, robes billowed as he spun round the corner. He walked with long purposeful strides, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny half-walked half-jogged to keep up.

"Sir, where are we going?" Asked Hermione. Snape did not answer, but instead continued to walk. They were headed towards the transfiguration classroom. They arrived in front of McGonagall's office. Snape whispered to the door and the heavy sound of the lock unlatching itself could be heard. Snape pushed the door open.

"Close the door, sit down. Do not speak." Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville all sat down at the table and stared with stony expressions straight ahead. Snape took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the fire, "The Burrow."

"Severus?" Molly Weasley's tone was surprised.

"Code Phoenix, two of your children, Granger, and Longbottom. You have less than two minutes."

He turned and marched out of the room listening to Mrs. Weasley encourage the children to quickly evacuate Hogwarts by floo powder. In the next two minutes those children would be untraceable. He secured the door behind him.

He had more important things to do now. Some young, impressionable Slytherins we waiting in his office in need of reassurance, a stupid mutt required protecting, and now an incompetent ministry fool needed medical attention. All of these things would require a long and uncomfortably drawn out conversation with Albus. Severus Snape could already feel the headache.

* * *

"HARRY! HARRY!" Hands were on his shoulder and Harry could feel someone rocking him. "HARRY!" Sirius's voice, loud and concerned, broke through the pain. For a moment Harry forgot that Sirius was dead. He was so relieved, so happy to hear his voice. The pain went away as Harry's heart surged with happiness and love. Then Harry did remember… Maybe he was dead too, and to him, for the moment, that was okay. If Harry was dead he would be with Sirius and his parents, and nothing could hurt him. He would finally be out of Voldemort's grasp. With that thought Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the rug that covered the stone floor of the Black family parlor. The smells of the old house that had become so familiar during the summer filled his nose.

"Harry!" hands were on his shoulders. They were shaking him, but then he realized that he was the one shaking. Not the hands. His eyes searched for the hand's owner and Sirius's face came into view. His heart jumped into his throat, and for the first time since Cedric Harry felt like crying. There was a tightness in his throat and when he talked his voice came out in a rasp. He was too relieved to be embarrassed though. Sirius had pulled him into a half sitting position and Harry's head was held against Sirius's chest. Harry wrapped his arms under Sirius's armpits and grasped the top of his shoulders holding himself against Sirius's body.

"Come on, Harry, let's find a place you can lay down. Your hand is bleeding everywhere kid. What happened?" Sirius was uncharacteristically calm though his voice shook. Harry didn't say anything as his arm was thrown over Sirius's shoulder and they hobbled up the stairs to the room where Ron and he had slept over the summer. Sirius gently deposited him on the bed. Harry could only blink at him with dazed dilated eyes as he leaned against the headboard. He couldn't believe Sirius was right in front of him. He watched him _die_. It was just like Mr. Weasley only he was too late, Snape hadn't even bothered to do anything, and Sirius was dead! Only he wasn't, because Sirius was right in front of him, his mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. Harry smiled at the sight. Sirius was here. He closed his eyes in contentment.

Harry knew something was wrong. There was a reason he shouldn't be happy, and he knew he shouldn't be happy when his limbs all ached and trembled. He knew he shouldn't feel peaceful when something very bad had happened. But all Harry could focus on was Sirius. It felt like the best day of his life. A hand patted Harry's face again until he opened his eyes again.

"Come on Harry, you need to stay awake for a bit." Sirius grabbed a towel and pressed it against Harry's bleeding hand. Harry hissed in pain.

"Sorry, Baby Prongs."

"Baby Prongs?" Harry replied skeptically, "Really?"

"Eh, well it worked when you were a baby, so I thought 'what the hell' may as well try it again."

Harry laughed softly. That was exhausting though. SO he closed his eyes. The tiles of the Department of Mysteries flashed behind his eyelids. He jerked forward crying out as he did so.

"Hey, you're okay, Harry." Sirius reassured placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and pressing him gently back into the cushion of the bed. "Listen, I need to go do something. Stay, right where you are." And then he turned and left the room. Dread filled Harry's stomach. Without Sirius in the room it was so much easier to feel like he was falling apart. What had happened today? He couldn't help but entertain the thought that his reality wasn't "real" if Sirius wasn't in the room.

Still though, if this was a strange afterlife, or even if he had just finally gone crazy like the Ministry and Rita Skeeter had predicted, well, that was okay, as long as Sirius was a part of his new reality. Harry attempted pulling himself out of bed. He knew he would feel better if he could hear Sirius's voice, or watch his back. Now that he had been still for the last few minutes it was surprisingly difficult to move. He drug his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled himself using the bedpost to a standing position. He gasped in shock and pain at his first step forward. It was like his entire body had gone numb and fallen asleep, and now that he was moving it was all prickly, like the muscle and lower layers of his skin were buzzing. It was the worst in his feet, calves, and thighs where the majority of his weight was supported. He shuffled forward. Gripping the bedpost at the head of the bed as long as he could and then letting himself fall forward a little to reach the bedpost at the foot of the bed. After that though he was stuck. The first unassisted step left him on the ground biting the insides of his cheeks to avoid crying out. Looking towards the door he crawled. His breath was getting labored and sweat clung to his forehead and across the bridge of his nose by the time he reached the stairs. The stairs were intimidatingly steep. Harry swallowed hard. Feeling childish and desperate he sat on the top step and began scooting down the stairs slowly and awkwardly. When he heard Sirius's voice, he stopped. The sound of his shaky breath was too loud to hear through when he was moving.

"Remus. Get over here as soon as you can, alert Tonks or anyone else."

"Sirius, what happened again?"

"I'm not…I'm not sure." Sirius paused. "I think he was tortured though. I need…Harry needs help."

"Look, take a breath. I sent a patronus to Tonks, she'll tell the others. I need to go to my flat to get some things, but I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

"Thanks."

"Sirius, it'll be alright, we'll make this alright." The fire fizzled out with Lupin's assurances.

Harry let out a breath. Sirius went to talk to Professor Lupin. That was all. Footsteps were getting louder and heavier. Remembering that Sirius told him not to move, Harry turned to go up the stairs, for a moment forgetting why moving was so slow going. He groaned loudly and his back protested the movement.

"Harry?" Harry's pained eyes looked up at his Godfather's very concerned and exasperated ones. "Come on, I'll help you. Your dad could never stay in bed when he was hurt either." Sirius help Harry up and supported most his weight and setting him softly on the bed. Harry's face was pale and pinched, but he smiled lightly anyway. As he settled on the bed, his smile slowly faded away.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked so quietly and with so much emotion that Sirius had to lean in to understand. "That night in the fire… are you really disappointed that I'm not more like my dad?" Sirius felt his heart drop into his stomach. Seeing Harry today fall out of his fire place screaming in pain, looking like death. It was a scene out of a nightmare. If something ever happened and Harry was left thinking that he wasn't proud of him, it would be unforgivable, an absolute tragedy.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I was wrong to say that." He paused briefly to see how Harry was doing. Trembling limbs, pinched eyes, but he was maintaining eye-contact urging Sirius to continue. "You are not a perfect replica of your father." Harry let out a small gasp at that statement, hurt. Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed and put both hands on Harry's shoulders. "You are brave and loyal like him, and talented and smart like him. But you have had a different life than he did, and you have different goals and aspirations than he did. Harry, you shouldn't be your father. You should focus on being you. He would've been so proud of you... I know I am." Harry swallowed loudly and nodded his head forward, Sirius leaned in and gently hugged him.

"Can you tell me about him… about them?" Sirius looked speculative for a moment.

"Don't get up again," he warned, "I want to show you something. I'll be right back." In less than a minute he was back and carrying a stack of letters. "These were written by your parents, mostly your mum. There's a few pictures in here too I think." Sirius resumed his place by Harry's bedside and began telling story after story. "See, here's where we're all making plans to go on holiday together… and this one was right after they found out about you…." Harry was absorbed by the writing. He traced the letters absolutely entranced. Here in his hands, under his fingers were thoughts that his parents had. They had touched this paper, and folded it. Held it in their hands. It was like getting a hug from across time. He couldn't get over that he wrote his G's just like his mum's.

When Remus arrived, healing potions and books in hand he found Harry and Sirius heads leaning against each other's as Sirius used large hand gestures to paint a story of Hogwarts when the marauders were having adventures. 'It will get better,' he thought before knocking on the door frame. It had to.

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To my 2 reviewers: Thank you so much for your feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: I don't have many reviews yet, but I would, and do, appreciate them. This story is still in the works, so feedback is valuable, helpful, and impactful.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling. I just wanted to borrow her characters.**

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Molly Weasley ushered her children and their fellow classmate unto the sagging living room couch.

"Sit, sit" she urged a tray of hot tea zoomed into the room and sat itself down on the table. She knelt in front of them. Staring through their eyes into their souls in a way that only a mother is capable of. "What happened?" Her warm brown eyes were pleading. "Are you all alright?" When none of the children answered her Mrs. Weasley stood up, hands flustering down, smoothing the apron she wore. "Right, well, drink some tea, and, um, I'll just go get some biscuits from the kitchen." It was rare that she allowed her children privacy when something so important had happened, but they all looked shell shocked. Perhaps she could give them the necessary amount of time to better compose themselves. Unsure of what to do she walked into the kitchen and stared at the family clock. It was about supper, too late for biscuits, Arthur should be travelling soon. She pulled a plate down from the pantry. She had no idea what to make for dinner now that there were five hungry children in the house, but luckily, being a mother of seven had made her creative. Pasta it was. The pot of water was put on the stove to boil and she began the search for other ingredients.

"Mum?" She jumped a little out of her musings when the sound of her youngest son interrupted her distraction and worry.

"Yes, dear?"

"Can we talk?" His ears were red, he was rubbing his left elbow. Both were signs that a deeper conversation would take place. She gestured to the table, and he pulled out a chair and plopped down heavily, slouched with both elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of him.

"Mrs. Weasley," a quiet voice sounded from the door and Hermione peeked around the doorframe, bushy hair concealing half her face in shadow. She pulled out the chair next to Ron's wincing as it scraped against the floor, and sat down next to him. She sat on the edge of the seat, straight backed and very serious.

"Ginny," began Hermione, "is entertaining Neville with stories of garden gnomes. I think they might go on a tour of the house soon." Hermione's voice was strangely high-pitched and she swallowed convulsively, then… "Mrs. Weasley, we did something very bad, and we need to talk to Dumbledore and make sure that Harry's alright." Ron nodded from his seat next to her staring at the wood pattern in the table.

"What happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked again, this time reaching across the table to grip their hands. Her motherly look and imploring demeanor had Hermione's eyes well up, missing the comfort of her own mum, needing the comfort of a warm enveloping matronly hug. It was with the continued concerned gaze that the story poured out.

Ron and Hermione took turns to describe what had happened during the History of Magic exam, how frightened they were, and how they made their plan to help Harry, organized a distraction, and then being caught. The inquisitorial squad, Umbridge, Snape, torture, and rescue. They talked about Neville's bravery remembering that McGonagall was in St. Mongos and how he had used that to stay with them. Ron still had a panicked look about his face when they finished and were silent.

"Mum, what if I didn't say it clear enough? Remember that time in second year when Harry ended up in Knockturn Alley instead of Diagon Alley? What if… what if I sent him somewhere else, and he's lost or hurt all alone? Oh no! What if he's not alone, what if Death eaters got him?! What… what if…" sweat was beginning to bead on Ron's forehead, his hands were cold and clammy in his mother's. Hermione was shaking her head quickly in small fast motions. She gripped Ron's empty hand with her own. Mrs. Weasley looked horrified.

"Ron, my sweet boy… you saved him. We'll get this sorted out, but you all did the best you could."

It was quiet for a second.

"Oh God," whispered Hermione breathlessly, "Sirius."

Ron pulled his hands away from mother and friend and buried his face in them. Hermione appeared to be in shock, staring wide eyed and straight ahead.

"Shh, Shhh," Mrs. Weasley soothed. "Professor Snape knows, right?" Ron and Hermione nodded. "I'm sure he's checked up on Sirius. When things calm down someone from the Order will stop by and give us an update." She was annoyingly placating in her assessment.

"You don't understand!" Ron insisted, "Snape _hates_ Sirius _and_ Harry, he's never been nice, never even attempted be nice, to either of them!"

"Ron. Stop!" pleaded Hermione, "Dumbledore trusts Snape, we need to too."

"Yeah? Well, what about how he's so bloody awful in class, or how he knows that Umbridge is terrible and doesn't do anything, or how he always picks on Neville, or how he ignored Harry today, or…"

"Will you shut it, Ronald!? What would professor Snape be able to _do_? He's a _spy_! He can't go around looking like he takes Harry or any of us seriously." Hermione had whipped around to glare at him.

The fire place could be heard roaring to life in the next room.

"That will be your father. Sit here dears…" anxiously she went to go meet him. After explaining the situation to Arthur they walked into the kitchen to find Ron and Hermione whisper fighting, heads so close together their foreheads practically touched.

"How about you both go find Ginny and Neville and set the table for dinner. We can talk after that." Suggested Mr. Weasley meaningfully.

"Dad! There's no time for that. We need to _do_ something." Ron stood, violently pushing his chair out behind him adamant that Snape wasn't fulfilling his role to the Order. Hermione tugged on his hand sharply though and pulled him out of the room. They had to make a plan.

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Remus Lupin slipped into the room quietly and stood behind Sirius as he finished his tale. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hello, Harry" he greeted warmly.

"Professor Lupin." Harry nodded in greeting, face somber. He loved Lupin, but he always saw him when he was at his most vulnerable. The dementors on the train, the "rescue" this summer. Harry swallowed. He didn't want to think about it. Why hadn't Lupin bothered to see him when he wasn't in trouble or needy? Was that the only time he mattered? Was that the only thing they cared about? If the "chosen-one" was hurt, if the "chosen-one" was in trouble. Ugh, it was worse than Dumbledore. Dumbledore just ceased to care. But the pitying looks… a lump rose in Harry's throat. He was angry, and though he wouldn't admit it, sad.

"Call me Remus. Take off your shoes, get comfortable. I have something for you."

Harry tried to push off his trainers with the sole of his other foot, but they wouldn't budge. His face warmed, and he couldn't make eye contact. He felt so small and weak. Not even able to take off his own shoes. God, it was like he was five, except when he was five he was able to dress and undress himself. Actually, Harry couldn't remember not being capable of that small task.

"Here, I've got you." Lupin pulled off his shoes for him.

"Thanks." Harry replied dryly. Lupin reached into his bag and pulled out a small vial of dreamless sleep. Harry looked at it longingly. It had been a long time since he had slept well. He was terrified now of what he would see if he closed his eyes. He still was struggling to grasp everything that had happened. He pictured Ron's panicked face as he shoved him into the fireplace, green flames licking his cheeks, Hermione's tears. His friends, Oh God, what had Umbridge done to them?

"Ron and Hermione! And Luna and Neville! Are they ok?! Do you know!" he demanded of Lupin panicking once more. He reached up and grabbed at Lupin's shoulders.

"Yes, I talked to Professor Snape on my way here. They are all ok, and in a safe place." Remus pushed Harry gently back into the bed.

"Ok," Harry breathed relaxing into the pillows again.

"Harry are you hurt anywhere that we should know about before you sleep?" Asked Lupin critically, staring hard at Harry's face.

"No. I'm fine."

Sirius scoffed, and Lupin let his eyes flash down to the bloody rag wrapped around Harry's hand. Harry saw but refused to acknowledge that there was anything there. Sirius shook his head slightly, telling Remus to let it go.

"Ok, we'll talk when you wake up." Remus handed the vial over, and harry drank it quickly, eyelids already heavy.

"Thanks," he breathed softly before drifting off.

The two old friends waited, staring at their young charge. Harry never seemed young when he was in action, defending people, arguing ideas, but now, lying in bed still in his school robes with dark circles under his eyes, he looked very small.

"I wonder what James and Lilly would have done," muttered Remus. Sirius just shook his head sadly. Remus pulled out his wand again and cast a diagnostic spell. It was a useful spell to know, one that he had begged Poppy to teach him. She had refused in his school days, but later when James and Sirius were aurors, she relented. A quill began notating on a scrap of parchment from Remus's bag. When it was complete and the quill laid itself down Remus picked up the parchment and held it so Sirius could read over his shoulder.

_Signs of previous malnutrition_

_Sleep deprivation_

_Low grade fever- 38 degrees C_

_Suffering from cruciatous curse x2_

_Dark magic_

_Prolonged use of Blood Quill _

"Oh, Harry," Sirius sat limply on the side of the bed, reaching across and pulling Harry's bloody hand onto his lap. The blood had dried in odd patches across his skin. Remus left and came back with a wet towel. Gently Sirius wiped away the blood and cleaned the wound. His expression was dark with anger. Who had done this! For someone to use an illegal and barbaric device on his Godson. It would be horrific if it had been used on any child, but to use it on Harry! Sirius shook with rage. The words _I must not tell lies_ stood out starkly against Harry's pale skin. He wrapped the words in gauze and disinfectant and placed Harry's arm back on the bed. He was still trembling lightly.

"Anything we can do about that?" asked Sirius eyeing the light twitching of Harry's limbs. He pushed the dark hair that obscured his forehead back. Trying to be comforting even if Harry wouldn't be aware of it. It was wet with sweat, his scar was bright. Remus shook his head.

"No, that's one of the reasons, among many, it's an Unforgivable." Remus's face was twisted into a snarl. "Whoever did this, Padfoot…" He let the threat die off.

"How long until he recovers?" Sirius was trying to push back his anger by pushing his concern for Harry to the forefront of his mind. Remus shrugged helplessly.

"It depends. He'll wake up feeling a lot better though."

"How do we even move past this, Remus? What can we do?"

"We'll just have to talk to him when he wakes up. Until then, Dumbledore must be told that Harry's with us." They both continued to sit though, lost for words, and waiting for the other to get up and offer to make the important call. They were spared when Severus Snape's voice was heard yelling downstairs.

"Black! Take Harry and run! You must get out of here!"

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**So, that was a little shorter than the other chapters, but it felt like a good place to stop. Please remember to review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I am blown away by the lovely responses I received. Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling- these characters and the magical world they live in belong to her.**

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_"Black! Take Harry and run! You must get out of here!"_

Remus raced down the stairs, flying to the fire. What had happened now? His heartbeat pumped loudly in his ears, his mouth was dry.

"Grimmauld Place has been compromised." Severus Snape stated as Remus flew around the corner. Severus Snape never appeared rushed or frantic. He was known for his composure, it was what made him so skilled at his job. However, his dark eyes were wild now. "What are you waiting for?! Get the boy and the mutt and run!" He spat, as his head disappeared from the flames.

Remus wanted to ask questions. They needed more information, but Snape was gone, and Remus was left with an all-encompassing sense of urgency. It was like the old days. Instead of doing the easy thing and begin to run around haphazardly in alarm or stand frozen to the ground in horror, Remus Lupin took a deep breath, and on the exhale created their priorities, focused on clarity: collect all Order evidence, get Harry, apparate to a safe place. Based on the urgency of Snape's call they didn't have time to waste.

"Sirius!" He bellowed up the stairs, "We need to leave. We'll go to Shell Cottage, grab Harry. I'll get the documents." Sirius could be heard upstairs running from room to room. His feet pounded hard on the floor. Remus sprinted around the lower levels, gathering up folders, and maps, and codes. Luckily everything was well organized. Arms full of documentation Remus returned to the bottom of the stairs just as Sirius appeared at the top, Harry in his arms. He stumbled awkwardly down the steps being careful not to bang Harry's head or feet on the wall or banister. He was shocked by how light the boy was, but that didn't change the fact that cradling a teenager with gangly limbs and dead weight was no easy task.

"Help me move him?" Their eyes met - they knew time was running out. Every second mattered, but without a good hold on someone apparation was incredibly dangerous. The people involved could separate mid-travel, and the risk of being splinched increased by fifty percent if the person side along apparating wasn't conscience, and therefore, was unable to have the will to stay with the person initiating the travel. They had no choice now.

A half breath later and Sirius had placed harry on the ground and handed the heavy backpack full of clothes and personal effects to Remus who dumped the documents into it. Extension charms were incredibly useful. He slung the pack over his own shoulders and helped Sirius place Harry, auror style, on his back, so that Sirius's left elbow could wrap around Harry's left knee while his right hand could grasp Harry's wrists. There was no way the boy could be lost or splinched on their journey now. Besides, Sirius had enough heart and will for both of them.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

"Wait… Kreacher!" He would betray them again if he wasn't taken along. At the sound of his name Kreacher appeared.

"What does mistress's disappointment want Kreacher for now?" sniveled the decrepit elf staring up at Sirius and Remus with huge eyes. "Where are they going…Kreacher wonders…why is the Potter brat with them? Miss Bella said he would be dead, that was why Kreacher told her such secrets…he looks dead… Miss Bella and Cissy were always such good girls, such family favorites, always did well…"

Sirius was speechless in his anger. Gritting his teeth he spat out, "you are ordered to go and stay, without contacting anyone, at shell cottage. Leave. Now." Kreacher glared, seething, at the last remaining member of the family that he served for so long, and with a snap of his fingers disappeared.

Remus nodded breathlessly, happy that Sirius remembered the elf and the liability that he was. All they needed to do was get out of the front door and they were safe. His hand went out to grab the door knob, when he thought of something awful. Mrs. Black's portrait would have no problem talking to anyone who came through. Acting on a rash decision he cast the spell and watched as her picture burst into flames. Sirius stared at him opened mouthed, totally shocked as the flames began climbing up the wall and her screams grew louder and more high-pitched. He hated his mother, and yet, her voice as the last image of her was destroyed made him feel as though his entire body had been doused with ice water.

"Let's go." Remus reminded. Numbly Sirius nodded and opened the door just as the fireplace burst to life again. From down the hallway they could hear people land and spread out the room, felt as _Homenum Revelio_ brushed over them. They heard footsteps racing as they stepped onto the landing, and just as the first auror came around the corner and raised his wand they turned on the spot and dissaperated to shell cottage.

They hit the ground hard. Sirius, unbalanced because of Harry fell to his knees. Harry moaned and struggled. Sirius leaned over and backward releasing Harry's knee and wrapping his left arm around his waist instead as he stood, pulling Harry up to a standing position with him. In the moonlight shell cottage could be seen, a dark shadow on the hilltop. Feet sinking in sand they worked their way up the hill. Harry groaned, in pain and confusion as his feet dragged against the oddly resisting and swaying ground. He had slept soundly through the commotion of their escape, but the apparation had reduced the Dreamless Sleep's effectiveness to almost nothing.

"Come on, Harry… almost there." Sirius grunted. They had made it to the dark doorway. Remus tapped out a strange pattern on the stone, reminding Harry of Hagrid on his first trip to Diagon Alley. Remus turned the knob and the door opened, a few seconds later warm lights turned on and a cozy fire had started in the fire place. The cottage was small, only a few tiny rooms joined by a small hallway, the living room and the kitchen were connected. It was quaint and warm and safe and lovely. But mostly safe.

"I'm going to ward the perimeter just in case." Remus remarked walking back out the door as Sirius led Harry to the couch in front of the fire.

"Sirius, what happened?" breathed Harry, eyes closed leaning his head backwards, resting his neck on the back of the couch. "Where are we?"

"We're at Shell Cottage. It technically belongs to the Weasley's, but they've let Dumbledore use it since the last war."

"Why are we here?" he kept trying to open his eyes; his eyelids fluttered as he spoke.

"Somehow the Ministry discovered Grimmauld Place, we had to leave." That got Harry's attention. He tried to push himself more upright than his slouched on the couch position. The Headquarters' discovery was probably his fault too.

"Are you ok? Is Remus ok?" He hadn't heard his old professor's voice for a while.

"Yes, we're both fine. In fact I'm going to go send an owl to Tonks and the Weasley's to tell them that we're ok." Sirius moved to stand up from his spot next to Harry, but Harry's hand flashed out and gripped his Godfather's wrist tightly.

"Stay. Please - just for a while." Harry was too tired to feel badly about delaying news to concerned order members. It had only been a few hours since the whole debacle started, they probably didn't know anything was wrong. Ron, Hermione and the others would be protected by the other Hogwarts staff, and if that wasn't enough, they could hide out in the Room of Requirement. Ugh, why didn't they try using the Room of Requirement to contact Sirius? His thought spun around the possible other scenarios. What had they been thinking? That there wasn't time to consider other options, he answered himself. He had put them all in so much danger.

"Sure, I'll stay for a while." Sirius patted Harry's hand comfortingly and settled back into the couch, "Why don't you try to sleep again?" But Harry was already in the process, light snores issuing from his gaping mouth. Sirius waited a little longer, and then left to go help his friend.

A little after midnight and they still sat awake at the table, both nursing a tea and fire whiskey. Harry seemed to be sleeping well enough on the couch, but no one had returned their owls, and neither Remus no Sirius felt comfortable going to bed until they heard something back from someone in the Order.

"Are you okay," asked Remus quietly looking up from his cup.

"Yeah." Breathed Sirius. But he wasn't making eye contact, focusing on a knot in the wood a few inches from his friend's right elbow.

"No you're not," replied Remus in finality. "What are you thinking about?" Sirius sighed deeply before taking another sip from his tea and closing his eyes setting the cup down as if it was much heavier than it actually was. He shook his head.

"Moony, I don't want to get into it…"

"Tell me." Remus had reached across the table as if to place a hand on Sirius's arm.

"It's stupid."

Remus waited.

"Look, I should be really pissed off. At the school for not keeping Harry safe again, at the entire BLOODY system and the Ministry, at Voldemort!" He broke off to nervously look over at the couch when Harry grunted and rolled over. After a few seconds he continued. "But, Remus, all I can think about is her _screaming_."

Remus stared at the table looking guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

Sirius made a noise of frustration. "It's not that. I _hated_ her. She was unfit to be a mother. She was cruel and abusive, and that's why I ran away at 16. You and James were my _family_. Not her, not_ them_." His hands shook with emotion, his face was dark, and it seemed like the progress made over the first two years of being out of Azkaban had waned a little. "Merlin, Moony. Half of the memories that replayed in there were because of _her_! I hate her!" Sirius was biting his jaw and his hands tapped a nervous tempo on the table. "She wasn't good." Remus nodded in agreement. Sirius continued. "We tried to get her down in every way possible when we moved in."

"Yes," Remus agreed.

"But, watching her burn. I thought when that day came it would be more satisfying. It didn't feel how I expected."

"What did it feel like?" Remus prompted.

"Like nothing." He stood abruptly, "I'm going to go find where that miserable creature went. I need to know what happened from someone."

Remus knew that he should say something, warn Sirius to be careful, that now might not be time for Kreacher to join his family on the Black wall of heads, but he chose not to. Some battles were not worth fighting- especially after such a long day.

It was around three in the morning when the owls returned. Both having only one word written upon their letters. _Stay_. How frustrating.

In the morning though a bigger shock greeted the men. They were hunched around the small table eating breakfast when it came. There hadn't been much food after the cottage had been in disuse for so long, so after doing his best to disguise himself as a muggle Remus had apparated to the edge of the nearest village and bought enough groceries for a week paying for them with the stash of muggle pounds hidden in a fake drawer next to the sink. The trip was without incident, and an hour later they all nibbled the edges of toast and sipped on hot tea while staring bleary eyed at each other. Harry still wouldn't talk about what happened, and his eyes narrowed in anger when they asked about his hand for the third time, so, too tired to pursue questioning, Sirius and Remus dropped it telling themselves they'd try again in the afternoon. That was when they heard the tap on the window and an owl carrying an excerpt from The Daily Prophet, it must have been sent by an Order member for the owl to have even found them. Harry was the one who got up to retrieve the mail. He stroked the owl softly, probably thinking about Hedwig. He began reading it as he limped back to his chair. His face grew darker with each line. By the time he was standing behind his seat he wanted to begin yelling, but opted for slamming the article in the center of the table where Remus and Sirius could read it at the same time.

**_Boy-Who-Lived, Dead? - Rita Skeeter_**

_Yesterday evening at approximately 8 pm ministry employees were called to Hogwarts by distraught Defense against the Dark-Arts Professor, Delores Jane Umbridge. She claimed that she was talking to her troubled student, Harry Potter, after he had finished is O. , when, out of her office fire Sirius Black arose. He stunned the poor woman and kidnapped Potter in a vicious attack. Her office bears the marks of dark magic supporting her claim._

_Luckily, the ministry had a trace placed on her fire, suspecting that it could be necessary, and were able to gain the whereabouts of Sirius Black's lair. When they arrived they witnessed Remus Lupin, beloved Hogwarts ex-professor and werewolf, assisting the kidnapping. They also described an injured and unconscious Harry Potter slug over the back of convicted murderer and Death Eater, Sirius Black. The men disapparated as they were seen, and their current whereabouts are unknown. If you have any information about their whereabouts inform your local Auror office immediately. Currently a thorough search of the convict's and his accomplice hide-out is being conducted by non-other than Mad-Eye-Moody himself, but it must be admitted that the situation for Mr. Potter looks bleak. What a shame for the young and resilient child to be betrayed by his parents last living "friends."_

Harry stared daggers at the paper, and Sirius stood to begin pacing the room. Remus remained sitting, weary. He wasn't concerned with being labeled as an accomplice. It happened, he wasn't planning on wandering the wizarding villages soon anyway, so he should be ok. At least Mad-Eye was heading the case. He could find a way to cover anything they missed in their fast exit. Still though, what did they do now? They needed guidance, and they needed Harry to open up about what had happened. He leaned his head back rubbing his eyes, trying to think of their next option when there was a dignified knock on the door. Only Order member knew of the cottages existence, so, trusting that fact, Remus stood to greet their guest while Harry and Sirius stared on. Opening the door revealed none other than Albus Dumbledore. Without asking and without comment he entered the room and immediately made eye-contact with Harry.

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**So, that's all for now. Let me know what you think. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you again for the kind reviews.**

**Disclaimer: not mine.**

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CH.5

_Opening the door revealed none other than Albus Dumbledore. Without asking and without comment he entered the room and immediately made eye-contact with Harry._

"Harry." He nodded in acknowledgement as he walked across the room and sat down at the table in the seat Remus just vacated. "We need to know what happened." He stared expectantly over his half-moon glasses. Remus opened his mouth to interject, but after a significant look closed his mouth and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder instead. Hard emerald eyes glared at Dumbledore.

"Why should I tell you anything? You don't care." Harry's voice was low and angry. He stared harshly and accusatorially back at the headmaster. "You haven't looked at me in months. If you cared you would have tried to explain what had happened with Mr. Weasley - you would have told me about the weapon, you wouldn't have abandoned me this summer, and Sirius would not have almost died!" His voice was raising. "Would you have cared then?! If Sirius died, would you have done anything?!" Dumbledore stared at him longer.

"Sirius was not in danger of dying, you were though." Dumbledore evaded the accusation.

Harry seethed, and continued to glare.

"Tell us what happened." Dumbledore politely requested again. Harry rubbed at his scar.

"I had a vision." His eyes flicked to where Sirius sat on his right. "Voldemort had Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. He told him to grab something for him, but Sirius refused. They were torturing him." He paused, waiting for someone to say something, but they all continued staring. All carefully guarding their response. "Well… we had to do something!" Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore raised his hand off the table stopping him.

"Go on, Harry," he prompted, "What happened next?"

"I told Ron and Hermione about it, they guessed anyway, and somehow Ginny and Neville and Luna got involved. Neville, Luna, and Ginny were our look-outs and Ron and Hermione came into the office with me."

"Who's office, Harry?"

"Professor Umbridge's." At this both Remus and Sirius exclaimed.

"Harry, why would you do that?"

"That was incredibly dangerous."

"What were you thinking?"

Harry's head was spinning. Why were they mad at him? He just was trying to help. He needed to help. Didn't they understand what it would've been like if Sirius had died?! What it had felt like for those horrible minutes that Harry thought he had.

"I WAS THINKING I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO DIE!"

Everyone stilled.

"Please," Harry continued in a softer tone, "I was thinking that I really didn't want you to die. I was trying to be smart though" He looked up at Remus standing behind him. Begging him to understand. "Hermione and Ron talked me into checking just in case Sirius was fine and it was a trap from Voldemort. But I needed to do something." When no one said anything he looked down into his hands and mumbled, "You don't understand."

"Alright," Dumbledore soothed, "You chose to use her office, because the fire in Gryffindor tower was being watched and Professor McGonagall is in St. Mungos." Dumbledore always seemed to grasp the rationale behind plans.

"Yes." Harry sighed.

"What then?"

"We were caught. Someone told her that Peeves was acting up in a different way that he really was. That, and I guess she had charmed her office to notify her of disturbances. She found me with my head in the fire yelling at Kreacher."

"And where is the elf now?" Asked Dumbledore turning his piercing gaze to Sirius.

"He's here with us, he has been banned from leaving or communicating with anyone outside the premises."

Dumbledore nodded in assent. And nodded at Harry urging him to go on.

"The Inquisitorial squad was there. They're mostly a bunch Slytherin goons who suck up to her to get points taken away from other houses. They got everyone else. Ron was bleeding… Snape showed up, but he didn't do anything! I _told_ him, and he did nothing!"

"Harry…"

"She wanted to know who I was trying to talk to, but I wouldn't tell her." His hand twitched and he moved them off the table to clasp them in his lap. He stared very firmly at his tea cup.

"What did she do?" Remus asked, practically growled in his seriousness.

Harry shook his head.

"Severus informed me that dark magic was all over her office." Dumbledore informed the group. Sirius's face darkened and he placed a hand on Harry's other shoulder. Harry allowed it to stay there but scoffed at the comment. Of course dark magic signatures were all over her office: blood quill, Unforgivable curses, visions from Voldemort….

"We need to know what happened." The Headmaster's voice left no room for argument. But Harry stared at him anyway. Stared at him straight in the eyes. He didn't want to tell. He shouldn't have to tell.

"No."

"Harry." Sirius looked at him in surprise. Harry glared back in indignation.

"I thought _you_ would understand!" He exclaimed. "Why should I tell _him _anything? He left me in the dark all summer! Left me with the stupid, vile Dursley's, didn't let me talk to any of you! WHY SHOULD I TRUST HIM?! HE DOESN'T CARE!"

Remus had his lips pressed into a hard thin line. Sirius looked at Harry a few seconds longer and turned his gaze towards Dumbledore.

"I agree. You've given Harry every reason not to trust you. He will tell us, and we'll inform you of the seriousness of her actions. How should we contact you?"

Dumbledore looked visibly annoyed. Something that Harry had never seen before. But, after a few seconds his facial expression smoothed to acquiescence. "What she did, Harry, it was very wrong. The sooner we know the details, the sooner we know what to do about her professorship. You need not tell me, but be I need to be informed of the details after you tell Remus and Sirius. Today." He gave Harry a significant look over his glasses, and Harry felt that Dumbledore already had a good idea of what had happened. The thought made him feel sick. If he knew and didn't do anything to remove her from power than he must not care about Harry or any of his students. He nodded anyway. "I can be reached through Severus. Send a message to him through the fire. He will get it to me." Sirius bristled at reporting to Snape, but bit back on his jaw and didn't say anything. "Now, about Grimmauld Place, and the article…" Everyone sat a little straighter. "We will go with the story. After a week the aurors will call off the search when evidence beyond a reasonable doubt is presented supporting Harry's death."

"What?" Harry breathed.

"It will be better if the world thinks you have died. You will be able to train and learn in an environment that is not constantly under threat of Death Eaters. You have four Hogwarts professors in the Order and plenty of highly educated wizards and witches available to help you. We are still developing a plan, but I believe that we can even trick the majority of Death Eaters into believing that you are dead. Lord Voldemort will be harder to convince, and I doubt we will convince him, but he will move on to other schemes, allowing you time to prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

"Everything. You will be invaluable to our war efforts."

Sirius's grip on Harry's shoulder became stronger.

"Why?"

"Unimportant at the moment." Dumbledore dismissed. "Tonks will be by once a week to drop off food, check in, etc. but otherwise, we'll have to keep visits to a minimum. Eventually the entire order will know, but at first we need everyone to have entirely authentic reactions. The fewer people that know the better."

"Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked. "They need to know I'm alive." Harry insisted. "They'll know anyway. The article mentions that I was seen with Professor Lupin and Sirius; they know that they would protect me against anything,"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm sorry. At least for the first week after your "death" is announced it would be too large of a security risk to let them know. We will inform them of your whereabouts in the summer though. You will not be without your friends for long." Albus Dumbledore stood and made his way to the door. "Also, Harry, your trunk and Hedwig will be sent to the Weasley's. Do not write any letters to them. Tonks will bring personal items to you" He spoke as if reading Harry's mind.

Harry made a disgusted noise. The only good part about this, other than the fact he was with Sirius and Remus and no longer in school, was that he knew it would drive Ron and Hermione just as crazy to not receive any owls from him. His sense of retribution waned a bit though, when he thought about them thinking that he was dead. That seemed cruel. At least he knew that they were both okay-albeit having fun without him- over the summer. They would know nothing.

Dumbledore nodded in farewell and departed out the front door. Harry turned his head to find him outside the window, but he was already gone. He sighed and slouched lower in his chair. Not even ten in the morning, and he was exhausted. Then there was that "evidence beyond reasonable doubt"- whatever that meant- to worry about.

Remus sat back down and leaned his face into his hands, rubbing out the dark circles under his eyes. Sirius inhaled deeply and exhaled in a huff.

"We better get started. You need to tell us what happened to you, and what happened to your hand."

Harry wanted to be swallowed by the stone flooring.

"Sirius, it's over. Not a big deal." Harry moved to stand up and walk out of the room in good teenage angst fashion, but Sirius reached out and grabbed his hand stopping him.

"Sit. down." Harry hesitated, but relented plopping back down in the chair. "Do you know what it did to me to watch you fall out of the fire?" Harry didn't answer. "I thought you were _dying_. You were in so much pain… I couldn't help." He searched Harry's face beseechingly. "I need to know what happened."

No one said anything for a while. Harry chewed on the inside of his cheeks and thought of the right words.

"We know that she used the cruciatus on you." Stated Remus bluntly but with sympathy.

Harry nodded, still sucking in his cheeks as he thought. He took another sip of is tea before he began.

"She used it twice." Sirius's expression darkened in anger. "She was going to use it a third time, but Ron stopped her, well sort of, she was going to torture him to get me to talk. Ron knew I couldn't say anything, but he volunteered anyway. He didn't know what he was doing." Remus wanted to cry. His students in such a hostile and disgusting environment. Harry was lucky to have his friends. He would need them. Harry continued, "But that was when I got another vision. Voldemort showed me that he killed you. _I watched you die_." He looked at Sirius with wet eyes. "I thought you were dead." He swallowed hard. "I was so angry. I got up and the windows shattered. That was when the door burst open and Ron pushed me into the fire and sent me to you." Sirius would be forever grateful for that kid. "Voldemort was really angry, and he wanted to hurt me. That was why I was in pain when I came through the fire. There wasn't a vision though. It stopped when I heard your voice. I thought I had died too." Harry probably would have made jokes about being so mushy and sentimental before the entire incident, but he was too grateful to care now. His world would have crumbled if Sirius had died. "And that's how you found me."

"What about your hand?" Asked Remus pointing. Harry sighed deeply. Hermione would be proud that he finally told an adult, even if he was cornered into it.

"That was Umbridge too."

"How." Sirius was practically shaking.

"In detentions."

Sirius stood and began pacing angrily, suspicions confirmed.

"Harry, blood-quills are illegal. Why didn't you tell anyone?" Remus, the more composed one remained sitting by Harry's side.

"I didn't want to give her the satisfaction. I could take it."

Remus let out an exasperated sigh and Sirius stopped pacing and looked at Harry with horror.

"No, you shouldn't have to, and you shouldn't cover for her. What if she has been using it on other students? If you had told someone she wouldn't be able to do it anymore."

"You don't understand!" Harry insisted. "She holds all the power now. If I told she'd claim I was lying and then it would get worse. For me - and everyone else!" Remus looked down and saw _the _red lines the_ "I must not tell lies." _

"It's better." Harry defended pulling out of sight from his scrutiny. "Hermione's been helping- murtlap essence- it looks and feels a lot better now."

"Your friends knew, but didn't tell anyone?" Sirius was aghast.

"I wouldn't let them. They did what they could." Sirius sank back into a chair. "Look, I'm really tired, can I go take a nap or something?" Harry asked. He wanted to get away from their concerned looks- it was just like Christmas again. He was so tired of that.

"Sure," said Sirius watching as Harry got up and shuffled out of the room. A door could be heard clicking shut at the end of the hall.

With a sigh, Remus Lupin penned his report to Dumbledore, sealed the message and sent it onto Severus Snape. Sirius continued to sit at the table broodingly. It was going to be a rough week.

* * *

It had been a week since Molly Weasley discovered her two youngest children in the broom shed with their two friends plotting a rescue mission for a famous and missing boy. Reasonably she flew into a rage. Her babies were not going to fly off to London in search of their friend when perfectly qualified Order members were already checking up on him. She let them know that in no uncertain terms would they be gallivanting around the country and then busied them with chores and school work. They had grumbled, but were too distracted and busy to leave the yard, so she was satisfied and relieved. Augusta came and picked up Neville a few days ago, and Arthur was busy examining the findings of the Black family house. He snuck back the things he thought Sirius would prefer not end up in Ministry hands, but let most the items slide by.

Now though, Arthur entered through the back door. Kingsley Shacklebolt followed him. They must have aparated from work. His face looked haggard, and Kingsley looked positively downtrodden.

"Arthur?" Molly asked, "Kingsley? What's the matter? Will you stay for tea?" Kingsley shook his head sadly.

"No," He answered in his deep voice. "I'll be leaving soon." Molly looked expectantly at her husband.

"Molly," Arthur warned, placing a hand on her arm in a comforting gesture. "It's about Harry." His eyes pressed shut in sorrow. "We should gather the kids." His face was weary and somber.

"Tonks said she hasn't been able to reach them a few days now, but we thought they were lying low." Mrs. Wesley reasoned. Arthur continued to stare at her with sad eyes. "The ministry has found evidence that Harry was murdered. They are calling off the search… so is Mad-eye. We knew they were alright a few days ago, but something must have happened between then and now."

"What did they find?" She sank into a kitchen chair.

"Molly…" Arthur shook his head slowly, mouth partway open.

"What did they find?" She asked again resolutely even as her voice trembled. Kingsley Shacklebolt handed over a few pictures.

"It looks like the scene with Pettigrew," His said, "obviously it wasn't Remus or Sirius that did this, but we can't find them. The blood, hair, and scraps of clothing all are a perfect match to Harry. It was him… Tonks is beside herself. She was the last one to see them all alive."

Molly raised a shaking hand to her mouth as she stared at the horror captured on film. Tears dripped down her face. The pictures were as graphic as she suspected with the word murder. A small crater had been blasted into the forest floor. Blood splatter covered the ground and the trunks of trees.

"Where is he? He could have been moved, he could have been alive."

Kingsley shook his head with regret. "No. the amount of blood and it's trajectory around the area make it seem incredibly unlikely that Harry survived."

Molly nodded and wiped at her cheeks. "The children will be devastated." She whispered voice cracking. Arthur knelt down and held her, feeling as she buried her head into his shoulder, the rise and fall of her sobbing shoulders.

"Hush now," he whispered into her soft hair. "We're _all _devastated."

Unbeknownst to them outside the door dangled an extendable ear, and on its other end three teenagers sat absolutely frozen in shock.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, reading this I realized that there is so much missing information I didn't tell you about: What Snape did after sending everyone off, How Harry felt about this whole 'play dead' thing, etc. So we'll start where we left off, but next chapter I might make a jump back in time to answer some of those questions. Let me know if that's too confusing or if you rather I just plow ahead.**

Disclaimer: All the characters and their magical world belong to J.K Rowling

* * *

CH.6

_Unbeknownst to them outside the door dangled an extendable ear, and on its other end three teenagers sat absolutely frozen in shock. _

The extendable ear slipped through Hermione's fingers and fell to the ground below. No one moved though. Crookshanks, having been sent from school, found it and carried it away. Only Ginny opened her mouth to stop him, but then closed it and leaned back against the wall, staring unblinkingly at Ron and Hermione. Hermione bit her lip, eyes pinched and focused in front of her, looking very much as she did on rare days when she was studying a piece of information she struggled understanding. Ron's face was blank. They sat listening to the muffled voices in the kitchen. A few minutes passed, and still everyone sat. The door creaked open.

"Ron… Hermione…Ginny?" Called Mrs. Weasley. Her voice was thick. "Come downstairs, please."

Numbly and without argument they followed each other downstairs and sat themselves shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Time seemed frozen. They all knew what was coming and a tightness in their throats and a fuzziness in their heads took over. Hermione could hear her breath echo in her ears, could feel Ron shaking lightly. "No," a voice said in her head, "This isn't happening."

Arthur and Kingsley exited the kitchen, pausing when they saw the children. Kingsley nodded in farewell, and his eyes didn't quite meet the gazes of Harry's friends and family. He was a brave man, who had been, and would continue to be, responsible for the lives of many people. This was not the first time he had told a family a loved one under his protection had been lost. It would not be the last time. That did not make it any easier. Every time felt worse than the last. He was intimately familiar with the expressions of loss twisting faces. Those expressions haunted his dreams. The first time he had delivered such heart-wrenching news was 17 years ago. He told a young mother her husband had died in the line of duty. He had been a young officer with the Auror department. She answered the door, baby on her hip, fading smile on her sweet face. He would always remember how her polite smile turned to absolute devastation as she took in the two men on her doorstep and realized the meaning behind their somber expressions. He had stood gaping at her, unable to say the words that would confirm her greatest fears. The man who had kissed her goodbye in the morning was not coming home. His partner started for him.

"Ma'am, we regret…"

Kingsley had taken it from there. Watched as she sank down the door frame, clutching the child to her chest, tears falling against the baby's soft curls. They left her when a friend arrived, walked back onto the street to apparate, carefully not looking back. Guilt and bile curdled in his stomach. As they landed outside the ministry he had braced himself with a thrown-out arm in an alley and dry-heaved. After he was done his partner took him to a bar and they drank more than they ever had before. He hadn't done that in any instance since. But tonight… tonight would be a night he would consider it.

Losing Harry. _How did that even happen_? Images of the boy's face flashed behind his eyes. He really was just a boy. He walked quicker to the gate, wanting to make it out of the Wards and be away. Guilt and shame filled him. He knew it wasn't directly his fault, but this was a death that would weigh heavily on his shoulders forever. He had made it out the gate when the first exclamation could be heard, carried out the window. He pressed his eyes shut as he turned.

* * *

"No." Hermione insisted again. "Mr. Weasley, it doesn't make sense." She was speaking as if debating a professor, being professional and convincing. "Harry can't be dead. He's with Sirius." Her head shook back and forth as if she was explaining something obvious.

Mrs. Weasley made a noise of indignation.

"He's _also_ with Professor Lupin. They wouldn't ever let anything bad happen to him." Hermione was defensive, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. "Look at the facts."

Mr. Weasley pulled his chair closer to her and matched her position, elbows balancing on his knees. "Hermione, we are." He said sadly and with finality as Mrs. Weasley began sobbing into her handkerchief again.

"Would you stop that?" Hermione barked at Mrs. Weasley causing her to cry harder. Immediately she felt guilty taking in the reproachful expressions of everyone else. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley. But this is wrong. Can I see those?" She indicated the folder on Arthur's lap. He had asked Kingsley if he could keep it for the evening, and after some consideration Kingsley had relented. Mrs. Weasley looked up. Her tear stained eyes wild.

"Absolutely not!"

"Mrs. Weasley, please."

"No, that is not okay… that is not appropriate… those pictures…" Her hands shook as she pointed at the folder on her husband's lap. Hermione looked like she was going to argue.

"Hermione," began Mr. Weasley gently, "I don't think it's a good idea. The pictures are graphic… don't do this to yourself." Mrs. Weasley buried her face again and Hermione held out her hand.

"Please, we're his best friends" she whispered. With a purse of his lips, and maybe against his better judgment, Mr. Weasley handed the file forward. She opened it and her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes critically looked over every detail. She stood stiffly and without speaking and walked out of the room towards the stairs. Ron looked up wide eyed as the warmth of her shoulder left his. Looking like a lost puppy he stared around unfocused until he saw her on the stairs and stood up to follow her. They went to Ron and Harry's room. _His _trunk was waiting there for them having appeared while they were downstairs. Seeing it there, with Hedwig looking ruffled and dejected, made it seem final. Hermione collapsed to her knees on the floor next to the truck, pictures spreading everywhere, Ron staring in horror.

Downstairs, Ginny looked at her parents. Also appearing lost. Finally she stood as if having decided on something.

"I'm going flying," she stated determinedly and walked towards the door. No one stopped her, and she didn't look back. Tears were stinging her eyes by the time she was opening the door to the broom shed. She scoffed in frustration as misty eyes made it impossible to tell which broom was hers and wiped at them angrily with the back of her hand.

Grabbing the one closest to her, past the point of caring who it belonged to, she kicked off and flew into the sky circling higher and higher and higher, much too high for comfort. She didn't think she had ever flown so fast or smoothly. The Burrow was a tiny dot on the ground, the air was frigid. Still she flew higher until she was sure she couldn't take it anymore. Then she laid her body down, feeling the hard polished wood of the broom handle press against her stomach and sternum, her head rested on her hands where they gripped the handle. The discomfort steadied her, and she wept, imagining her tears evaporating before they touched the ground, gone like Harry, before anyone knew what had happened.

It was late when she came inside. Her cheeks were red and raw from the cold wind. She had nearly broken down when, finally dry eyed, she had gone to put the broom away and had read the "Firebolt" inscription inlaid in the handle. It was probably among his favorite processions. A gift from Sirius, and he hadn't even been able to ride it again. How did it even end up in their broom shed? It was supposed to be locked in the dungeons of Hogwarts. None of this was fair. Harry _should have_ been able to ride it again. She swallowed a sob and pressed her back into the broom shed door taking deep shuddering breaths. When she was composed she walked back into the house. Her parents sat on the couch holding each other and staring into the fire. They turned their gaze towards her when the door slammed shut.

"Harry's broom is here." She glared at them because it was the easiest expression to make that didn't result in crying.

They stared at her for a moment, and then, Mrs. Weasley, recognizing the anger for what it was, stood up then and enveloped her daughter in a warm hug, as if trying to press the anger, frustration and sorrow out.

Ginny, who would have refused that sort of comfort hours before, melted into it now and joined her parents on the couch. She fell asleep with her head on her mother's lap and Arthur carried her to her room when it was late. Hermione's cot was still empty. He walked back down to Molly, and didn't bother informing her. Ron and Hermione should share company tonight.

Upstairs the two sat huddled on Ron's bed. They had their backs pressed against the wall, and their knees pulled up to their chests.

"It's my fault," Ron whispered.

"Don't say that," Hermione was quick to respond.

"I shouldn't have sent him away."

"Yes, you should have. You did the right thing"

"Ok."

They continued like that until they were barely awake, reassuring each other that they had made the right decisions.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered in the dark.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to go back to Ginny's room." Her voice was small and she sounded much younger than the sixteen year old she was.

"Don't go… Stay here with me then…" He paused resting his cheek on the top of her head. "Hermione, I don't want to be alone."

"Okay," she whispered. Neither of them had bothered with the light in the afternoon and neither of them had turned it on as the sun set, and now it was dark. Their eyes had adjusted though and Hermione could see Ron tapping his fingers rhythmically, and tensely against his leg. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I still think they're wrong. They can't be right. It doesn't make sense"

Ron swallowed hard enough for her to hear and nodded into her hair, but he didn't respond. Neither of them slept.

Far away neither did two other friends…

* * *

"Harry?" Sirius asked again, leaning over his godson's bedside brushing away the sweaty hair from his forehead. "Wake up. Come on, it's time." Tenderly he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and shook him gently. Harry screamed and thrashed in response. "Okay, okay… wrong approach." Sirius raised his hands palms up and backed away from the bed. Remus came in carrying a cold towel.

"Any luck?"

"No." Sirius shook his head frustrated and afraid. Harry had been trapped in nightmares since 11pm. It was now 2 am. Remus and Sirius couldn't get him to snap out of it. An hour ago he had developed a fever. It was hard to know if he was just getting sick and the nightmares were an adverse reaction, or if it was something more sinister. They had shaken him at first, but that was the opposite of effective. He had bolted upright appearing awake, but didn't recognize either of them. He had panicked when he couldn't find his wand, and had ended up cowering at the corner of his bed. To see Harry curl up small and in on himself was jarring. They left the room for a minute and when they came back he had closed his eyes again. Now, every 30 minutes or so they'd try something new. Putting a hand on his arm, calling his name, etc. Nothing was working. Remus went to go wet and cool a cloth thinking that if they got his fever down he'd wake up on his own. Carefully, he placed the towel across Harry's forehead, intentionally not touching him. Harry sighed. He was still dreaming, but whatever was happening inside his head seemed less violent now than it had been previously. Pulling up a second chair and summoning some tea Sirius and Remus settled in for a long night.

Sirius woke to a warm hand gripping his wrist like a vise. Opening his eyes and rubbing his sore neck, he had fallen asleep in the chair, he stared at Harry's wide green eyes. Harry didn't say anything, his eyes just made fast movements taking in little details about Sirius's stubble and Remus asleep in the chair next to Sirius's.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked slowly watching as Harry took shallow, fast breaths eyes flicking to the corners of the room. Harry nodded. He cleared his throat.

"Water?" he asked roughly. Sirius summoned a cup from the kitchen.

"Do you want to talk about your dreams?" Harry shook his head.

"How long was I asleep?" It was 7 am now.

"9 hours. How do you feel?"

Harry let out a harsh laugh. "Tired."

"Does that happen a lot? Where you can't wake up?"

Harry looked down and shook his head. "Not a lot. Ron is pretty good at getting me up."

"Ok." Sirius wondered what Ron had done that he and Remus hadn't tried. "Are you hungry?"

Harry nodded and swung his legs out of the bed disentangling them from the sheets, obviously trying to act nonchalant. Sirius playfully shoved Remus's shoulder playing along. He knew what it felt like to be treated as fragile.

"C'mon, Moony. Breakfast time!" Remus blearily opened his eyes, blinking and rubbing at the dark circles for a few seconds.

"Hey, Harry! How are you?" Harry looked sheepish and rubbed his scar. Remus frowned and Harry dropped his hand.

"I'm fine. Want eggs for breakfast?" he asked hesitantly.

"Sure, I'll help."

All three moved into the kitchen, Kreacher was standing over a teapot trying to coax the water into boiling faster. Sirius shook his head at him in disgust. That elf would have had clothes in less than a second had it not been for all of the confidential information he knew. All three of the men were not feeling kindly towards the elf, and when he noticed them all sitting he got up and left. Sirius grumbled angrily under his breath and Harry got up to heat butter in the pan.

Tonks was due in a few days, which was good because they were running low on butter and milk, and other food basics. Harry had just cracked the first egg, Remus next to him buttering toast, when there was a tap against the window. Pig hovered outside zooming around an envelope tied loosely to his leg. Harry got up and let him in intrigued. It hadn't been over a day since his "death" went public. Something he was still very, very bitter about. Was this just Ron telling him off for scaring them for a millisecond? Harry sighed with relief, he was disgusted about lying to the entire Wizarding world, thank Merlin Dumbledore must have reconsidered Ron and Hermione's acting skills. He patted Pigwidgeon fondly and removed the letter. He sat down and opened it carefully. Remus and Sirius stared at him with confused looks plastered to their faces.

_Harry,_

_Mate, you have to reply to this. Everyone is a mess here. Hell, everyone is a mess everywhere, but especially here. You should see Mum! Look, Hermione is fighting for you. She doesn't believe that you're gone, and if you respond to this I won't either. I know it's only been a day, but Hermione and I got our hands on the photos from the scene. Harry, that was a lot of blood... They test it to make sure it's actually yours right, no way that they just guessed? I mean, we know the ministry is full of idiots- so who knows- right? Kingsley is the one who told us though - I guess that makes this pretty serious. You have to be okay. Otherwise you wouldn't be reading this. I mean, it'd be really hard to read this if you were, well, you know…_

_Harry- I'm so sorry. I sent you away. I was trying to save you, I promise. I just couldn't watch you be hurt anymore. You were protected. I don't understand._

_Write back now! I need to help Hermione prove that the ministry is wrong. Harry, they are wrong about so much. They are always so wrong when it comes to you._

_We miss you, Harry, and I'm afraid. I'm so sorry. _

_Your best friend,_

_Ron _

Harry looked up at his guardians. What was he supposed to do? Harry stood up to grab a quill to respond, but when he turned around Remus and Sirius were finishing reading the last line.

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry, Harry." Remus said, he looked like he truly meant it too. His eyebrows pulled down and his lips were thin. With a wave of his wand the letter resealed itself, and he deftly reattached it to Pig.

"Go home, Pig." He whispered to the tiny bird. He took off into the morning light. Harry stared after the disappearing bird in shock. The eggs were burning, but instead of tending to them he turned and sulked down the hallway. The slam of a door shook the cottage's frame.

Remus pulled the eggs off the stove, and refilled Sirius's mug with tea. With a drawn out sigh he sat down next to Sirius who already looked the picture of exhausted and wearied by the day. He would finish his tea and then then he and Sirius would talk, and then they'd go talk to Harry. There was a plan. The summer was not that far away.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Over 100 followers! Wow! I hope you all continue to enjoy the story. Also, sorry for the long delay, graduating, moving, and wedding planning take up a lot of time and energy. **

**Disclaimer: Just as the previous six chapters said, this is not mine. I make no money off of it.**

CH. 7

"Harry?" Sirius knocked on the door. He didn't hear a response. "I'm coming in." He pushed the door open. Remus had insisted that Sirius talk to Harry now and not wait for later. Remus, had been his teacher for a year, so… he stood in the doorway. Morning light warmed the room, but couldn't shake the stony vibe being given off by his Godson. Harry lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. "Harry." Sirius repeated himself, but Harry didn't acknowledge him. Sirius walked over and sat down on the edge of the, bed noting how Harry's body kind of sagged towards him as the mattress dipped with his weight. "I brought you some toast and eggs." Harry still didn't acknowledge him. "Look, kid. You need to eat some food." Sirius slid the plate onto the bedside table. It had been a week and Harry had eaten shockingly little. Harry snorted rudely.

"Yeah, Sirius. I'll eat more when you do."

"I did eat, Harry."

"Yeah, right."

"Hey…" began Sirius, but Harry interrupted.

"Look, I appreciate it. It's nice that you care. But I don't want to talk. You should go away."

Sirius stayed seated. Harry's eyes flicked towards him. "Sirius. Leave."

"No." Sirius remained sitting, and reached out a hand to put a hand on Harry's arm. Harry filched away and pressed two tight fists against his eyes hard enough it sort of hurt. He felt Sirius's hands grip his hands and try to pull them away, he pressed harder. He had been having nightmares all week and now, the stupid stunt of Dumbledore's ruining Sirius's name any chance it had to be cleared, and being stuck in hiding from the world, when he should be out there, helping. It was too much! Why didn't he argue more! He could have run away, or refused point blank, or tried to think up a better option, but he did nothing! Maybe…maybe he was a coward; not like his Dad or Mum at all. Little stars popped in the blackness behind his eyelids.

"Stop! Harry, what's wrong?"

"He knows." Harry's voice was low and almost ashamed.

"Who knows…?" Sirius asked feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Voldemort." Harry's voice was muffled by his forearms, "He knows I'm not dead." Sirius let go of Harry's wrists, and Harry turned away from him and laid on his side facing the wall. Sirius could barely hear his next mumbled words. "Everyone else thinks I am." It sounded like Harry was drowning in guilt.

Ah, so this is what it's all about. Harry had been incredibly angry and upset at Dumbledore's plan. Harry viewed pretending to be dead to be the ultimate show of cowardice. He was horrified that he was going to "die" like Peter. Hell, Sirius had objected to that vehemently. But, it had made the most sense in the end. The press already knew that he was with Sirius and Sirius's name had never been cleared, so the public story still featured him as the bastard that sold out the Potter's. He stared at Harry's back at a loss of words and thought about that day….

_Albus Dumbledore sat across the table again. It was slightly unnerving to know that he, and Sirius and Lupin, had seen him more in the past month than anyone else. His long fingers formed a triangle in front of him. He had just told them the plan. They were going to cut Harry's hair, Tonks was going to sneak one of his school robes out of his trunk, and then they were going to take two liters of blood over the course of three days. He would drink blood replenishing potion after each draw, still miserable, but not too risky, Harry had paled at that, he had always disliked needles and Aunt Petunia had never been someone he would call "comforting" during his elementary vaccinations, and then… _

_"__Moody will take it from there." Dumbledore had said trying to cover some of specifics. "It will look like…"_

_"__Like I've been blown up." Harry said sharply. His eyes shone stone-cold._

_Dumbledore nodded. Solemnly. Harry pushed back the chair loudly and began pacing behind the table. _

_Harry shook his head violently. "No! I can't! I won't!" He had implored Sirius and Remus with the same arguments they were thinking of: Sirius would be brought back into the spotlight as a murderer of not only his best friends, but of their child and his Godson as well, Remus would be listed as the accomplice, "Dying" like Peter was disgusting and felt cowardly, It left the three of them with no support… the list went on. Remus rubbed at his temples trying to think of a solution. Sirius stood up and threw an arm over Harry's shoulder in solidarity._

_"__Sir, there has to be another way."_

_Dumbledore had shook his head resolutely. "No, my boys, this is our best bet. Trust me."_

_"__When can everyone find out?" Harry asked desperately. If nothing else he trusted Dumbledore to understand how to defeat Voldemort, how to fix seemingly unfixable problems, and to not abandon him, but Dumbledore stared at him remorsefully._

_"__I'm sorry, Harry. They can't. The Order, the Weasley's and Ms. Granger, will be made aware of your situation in early summer, but no one else can know until Voldemort is dead."_

_Harry had stared in something akin to horror, "No! I won't lie to them! I am not a Liar!"…_ _Sirius looked down and stared at Harry's hand. Umbridge needed to pay, and somehow they would find a way to make her. His eyes moved up from Harry's scarred hand and studied his exhausted and tense features as a new thought had seemed to wash over his face. "Sir, what aren't you telling us? Why can't everyone know? Why can't I just appear in a town and say that I escaped? I've escaped Voldemort before, why not Sirius?"_

_Remus and Sirius both looked to Dumbledore expectantly. Harry had made a valid point. Dumbledore simply stood though and moved towards the door._

_"__Tonks will be by shortly. I'll check in sometime next week. Remember to send any messages through Severus." As he placed a hand on the doorknob he turned and looked back at Harry. "I truly am sorry, Harry." He stared again, meaningfully into Harry's face and then left. Sirius watched as Harry's hands hardened into fists at his side, and he recognized the same expression James used to wear before he kicked something. _

What an awful day, Sirius thought. "The Order, including Ron and Hermione, will be told soon." He gently reminded.

"Ugh! That only makes it worse." Harry glared at the wall.

"Why would that make it worse?"

"It's bad enough that they think I'm dead _and_ that I can't talk to them, even when they send me bloody letters, but then they'll find out that I wasn't dead, and they'll think I was off having a splendid holiday while they suffered, while the whole world suffered, _and then_, Voldemort will know that they know that I'm alright and then they could… they could… well." He paused to breathe, "Everyone always gets hurt, Sirius. You should go away." The rant that started with anger fueled by frustration and longing died in a whispered confession.

Sirius didn't go away. He leaned down and wrapped his arms tightly around his godson, pulling him up to an embrace. Harry's arms remained at his side though his chin dug into Sirius's shoulder.

"You don't have to save the World, Harry. _And_, I'm not going anywhere, and neither will your friends. You are loved." Sirius pushed his arms straight still hanging on to Harry's shoulders. He stared Harry in the eyes. "You are loved, Harry. And the people who love you will never leave you."

Something seemed to crumple a little in Harry's expression then. His eyes scrunched shut, and his chin trembled. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Sirius. For the first time all year he didn't feel alone.

That day was the best the three of them had since Harry's arrival. Harry came out of his room to Remus's surprise, they played Exploding Snap (too bad it isn't Snape- Sirius had joked), and openly talked for the first time since Christmas. By the time Harry crawled into bed that night, he felt, not better, but well, and more at peace with his situation. After all, being in hiding with Sirius and Lupin definitely beat being stuck with the Dursley's all summer. It was with that thought that he closed his eyes and went to bed.

That night Harry's dreams were twisted…

_He was sitting at the kitchen table. Pumpkin juice and a biscuit sat next to his left hand and Lupin sat on his rig side. Medical instruments were organized in a neat row next in front of him and Lupin was instructing him to make a fist as he fastened a band a few inches above his elbow. Sirius nervously paced behind them. He had vaguely remembered watching this on the television one day before Aunt Marge's visit. Perhaps this was something that muggles and wizards did similarly. Though, as Remus smiled apologetically and slid the needle into his arm the scene changed. Now Wormtail had the knife again pressed against the crook of his elbow._

_"__Blood of the enemy…" his voice had trembled in fear, but now his face transformed from a sniveling and cowardly scowl to a sickening laugh as he plunged the dagger into Harry's arm repeatedly, and Voldemort rose out of a dark fog and began calling his name louder, and louder, and louder. "Harry… Harry…Harry!" His arm was on fire, his head ached. This was the end. _

"HARRY!" Hands were grabbing his shoulders shaking him. He lurched forward preparing to be sick, but stilled. His head ached and his arm actually did hurt. He must have squeezed his bruise in his sleep. Remus and Sirius Stood over him looking breathless and frightened.

"I'm fine." He reassured them, "Just a nightmare, nothing special; I'm sorry for waking you up." They sagged in relief. Sirius ran a hand through his long hair. Harry's confession that morning that Voldemort knew he was alive seemed incredibly concerning with the continuation of nightmares every night.

"I'm sending a message to Albus in the morning" Remus leaned over to whisper. Sirius nodded sitting down on the edge of the bed again. This had gone on long enough.

* * *

The memorial was to be on Saturday. Ron didn't want to go, refused to go, so did Ginny, and Hermione maintained that having a memorial when there was no proof of death was a waste of ministry resources and was only done to draw attention from important issues and create drama. Ron agreed. The newspapers, magazines, radio were buzzing about it. Everyone had something to say about the death of the "boy-who-lived." And now the crazy, misguided, unruly teenager was a misunderstood hero. It made Ron feel sick, literally feel as though his blood was boiling under his skin, as if he had just drank a gallon of Polyjuice potion. Suddenly everyone was giving heartfelt speeches about special moments they had shared with him, people who hadn't even met him were crying in the streets about "wasted potential" and that "poor, sweet, boy." People who had openly despised Harry and said awful things about him two weeks ago, were now lamenting his death as if a beloved friend had died. Ron wanted to punch them all in the face. Some kinder people, a few friends from school, including Neville and Luna, had written Ron and Hermione, expressing their concerns and extending an invitation to meet up to talk, or sit, or whatever. It was nice of them, but Ron hadn't responded. He didn't think Hermione did either, though Ginny had made plans to wander down to Luna's house as soon as the summer officially started. Ron didn't know what Ginny thought of it all, though she was being more reserved than normal.

When Pig had returned with his letter still attached he had felt his stomach drop. Hermione had found him sitting on the staircase and shaking. She read the letter and looked at him for a hard second before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his room and closing the door.

"What were you thinking!?" She demanded angrily, bushy hair bobbing as she spun around to glare at him. Ron looked at her and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "If Harry, was _dead_" She spat the word out "What could've this done to Sirius - to Remus?! Don't you think, Ronald?! This would be so awful for them to receive, for them to read…" She was breathing hard. _She thinks he's not coming back_. Ron realized in alarm.

"Hermione?" he asked tentatively? "Hermione, it's ok. It wasn't even opened. Besides, Harry's fine, right? That's what you've been saying." As long as she kept believing that Harry was fine he could to. Hermione was never wrong.

"What if I'm wrong?" She whispered sliding down the door and sitting on the floor. "What if I'm wrong, Ron?" She repeated desperately. He shook his head.

"You're not. Remember, not enough evidence. He's with Sirius and Remus."

"What if they're dead too." She whispered into her knees. "Otherwise, why wouldn't we know, why wouldn't they send a message?" Ron couldn't think of an answer. He sat down next to her and held her hand instead.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay, but I think a monthly updates, might become more regular as summer and new career/grad school progress. Warning: this chapter does contain more sadness for Ron and Hermione, but I promise, things for the trio will look up soon! **

**Disclaimer: Still none of the characters or places mentioned here are mine. **

* * *

CH 8

Saturday came too fast. Mrs. Weasley had put her foot down firmly that everyone would be attending, and at eight in the morning she served breakfast to a bleary eyed and irritable family. The children were dressed in their school robes in accordance to the Minister's request that all Hogwarts students attending do so in solidarity to their fallen classmate. It was a seemingly reflective and thoughtful request, but Hermione whispered vehemently to Ron that it seemed more like a media set up than anything else.

Fred and George had even come home from the flat they were renting in Diagon Alley. It was a testament to Mrs. Weasley's grief that she didn't remark on their lack of school robes as they were most certainly no longer students in their eyes. For the first time since Percy's leaving the table was silent. Ron pushed a bit of egg around hit plate with a piece of toast, but he thought he would be sick if he actually took a bite. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. His mind still drew a blank on the "how" behind it. How did something like this happen? A week ago and the three of them were still together, talking about plans for the D.A and O. . His musings were interrupted as Mr. Weasley looked at his watch and cleared his throat.

"Well, it looks like it's time to go." He stood up, pushing his chair back as he did so and headed to the door head already lowered in respect. They would be taking Portkey to Hogsmeade and walking to Hogwarts from there. Due to the nature and publicity of the memorial, it was decided that the Great Hall would be the best place to accommodate attendees. Afterwards a small marker would be placed next to the Potters' headstone in Godric's Hollow. In Arthur Weasley's pocket a small letter lay inviting the Weasley Family to attend the more intimate ceremony later. Hermione had her invitation as well. Everyone stood up following him, leaving their dirty dishes of uneaten food sitting on the table and shuffled out of the door.

It was a quiet walk to the old tin can on the hill. Ron stared at the cloudless sky. It was a warm, beautiful spring day, a perfect day for quidditch. If Harry had been with them they could have just finished breakfast and gone right back to bed. It was the first day of Summer Holiday after all, or they could have been on their way right now to the broom shed to fly around the burrow, or convince others to play a game, or just sit in the yard and talk about how stupid and vile Umbridge and Snape were. He swallowed hard. They couldn't do that now. Logically he knew that on the first day of summer Harry would be at the Dursley's, doing who knows what, and perhaps missing his friends. He always was so happy to leave the Dursley's, and now…well, now Ron wasn't even able to attempt his idea for this year's rescue plan. In his mind though, Harry, Hermione and him were relaxing by the old cow pond, or creating a DA training schedule for next year. He looked around him again, certain that at any moment his friend would pop out of the tall grass or wood line and come running up, apologizing in typical Harry fashion for worrying them. Then they could all walk back to the Burrow, he would actually be able to stomach breakfast, and, slowly, they would make their way to his room, and he would fill them in on his adventure. Ron scowled at his polished shoes. Stupid polished shoes- Harry never cared what shoes he wore. Heck, all that Harry ever cared about it seemed was genuine friendship. A friendship Ron had almost thrown away last year. Why hadn't he been a better friend? A lump formed and sat in the back of Ron's throat. He swallowed it down painfully. He felt Ginny's hand on his shoulder as he grabbed the can with the rest of his family, then they were off.

They had reserved seats in the second row, right behind Ministry Officials. A big picture of Harry was framed and next to the podium where Dumbledore usually gave his start of term speech. There was no Albus Dumbledore in attendance now. The picture was one that Rita Skeeter had snapped fourth year, and Harry looked annoyed to have been caught on camera. He kept turning his face to the side corners of his lips a little turned down… not at all how he should be remembered. Ron looked over at Hermione, her face was slightly green. Slowly the hundreds of attendees began to sit down and an elderly woman was assisted to the podium on the arm of a somber-looking wizard. He introduced the crowd to Bathilda Bagshot as she tottered behind the podium and cleared her throat. A few scattered gasps were heard in the audience and Hermione leaned over to whisper in Ron's ear, "She wrote _Hogwarts: a History_" Hermione was now staring at the stage giving the woman her full attention. Ron busied himself scuffing the bottom of his shoe on the Great Hall floor. She cleared her throat again, though in a completely different way than Professor Umbridge had.

"Many did not know it, but I was great friends with the Potter's." She began in a gravelly, yet soft voice, like lake bed pebbles being gently rolled together in an enclosed fist. "Yes, it's true, we lived on the same street all those years ago…" her voice faded and became wistful. "Yes, I was familiar with James and Lily and their friends. Mostly Lily. She would come and keep me company, I was often alone in those days, and she never turned down an invitation to tea. She told me once that she loved hearing me talk about my interesting life. But really I loved hearing about her. She, they both really, were so young when they died. They barely seemed out of Hogwarts to me. I was mystified. I suppose I shouldn't have been considering all the murders that took place that year, but I was. It was a great shock, and like most the adults in this room, I was very concerned with Harry's continuing life and Lord Voldemort's disappearance" many gasps were heard throughout the Hall, and she waited with a stern expression until there was complete silence again. _Harry would have liked her_, thought Hermione. "Now, Harry and I were never friends, not even acquaintances. While he had probably heard my name a few times in his life I believe it doubtful that he carried any memory with me in it. Though, _I _did know him, and will remember him, as will all of you, until the day I die. I knew him when he was not famous, when he was an infant and a toddler, sweet and innocent, as we all initially are, and oblivious to the evil that surrounded the world around him. I knew him when he was learning to talk, and when he had his first display of magic, and when Sirius Black," the corners of her mouth twitched down sharply, "gave him his first child's training broom." Ron stopped scuffing the bottom of his shoe and joined Hermione in rapt attention. Her pale face was awed looking, her mouth partly open. "I knew him when he was still uninfluenced by primary teachers, and his Mother's sister." Hermione and Ron had both noted that the Dursley's, though they had three seats reserved for them next to Cornelius Fudge, were not in attendance. "Uninfluenced by Hogwarts professors and magical peers." Her eyes scanned the room noting all the children in school robes. "I knew him, when all he cared about was his parents and a soft blanket that he carted in a little hand everywhere he went. But like the majority of you here, the rest I learned from watching the papers, and from gossip carried in and around the Leaky Cauldron, Three Broomsticks, and The Hogshead." There was a soft chuckling throughout the crowd at that. "He received his Hogwarts letter at age eleven, as all young witches and wizards do, and came to Hogwarts. He was sorted into Gryffindor and began his education. In his first year, he, along with some of his classmates" she indicated Ron and Hermione, "saved the sorcerer's stone. He was also selected as the youngest member of the quidditch team in the past century. In his second year, it was discovered that he is one of two known parselmouths. Instead of letting bias and fear corrupt him, he used his skill to save a classmate from the Chamber of Secrets. Then last year, he was awarded the title Triwizard Champion. He was known for his character and loyalty to his friends. Those who were close to him were people whom he trusted and loved and who trusted and loved him in return. His kidnapping and subsequent death will darken our days for a time, but we must try to find meaning in a meaningless tragedy. While Harry is gone now," she cleared her throat and paused a second and began again, "While Harry is gone, we must remember his spirit. We must remember the brave boy whose daring courage truly set him apart, and who strove to better the world around him."

She exited the stage looking small. Following her eulogy a few others made some comments about Harry's life and legacy, but all of the well-intentioned speeches seemed empty of substance. No one really knew him. Not like Ron and Hermione, and there was no way that they would speak at this show of a memorial, even if asked. It was too impersonal, too showy. At the end of the speeches sad music played and the attendees were ushered to another room for food and drinks. The Weasley's slipped out of the crowd slowly, eyes downcast not wanting to be seen or stopped. After another portkey ride they found themselves in Godric's Hollow and slowly made their way to the little graveyard on the hill, walked through the kissing gate, and joined the others that had gathered in a loose circle around a grave stone. Lily and James Potter lay under the ground in front of them. "The Last enemy that will be destroyed is death" emblazed on their tombstone speaking to all the members gathered there.

Mostly there were Order members, Kingsley, Mad-eye Moody, Tonks, Mrs. Figg, somewhat surprisingly, was in attendance, along with Augusta Longbottom, and Neville. When the Weasley's and Hermione joined the others they were greeted softly. Warm handshakes, gentle hugs, and voices the oozed condolence. Ginny looked like she wanted to bolt, her eyes were wide and she was only kept where she was standing by her mother's firm hand on her back. Hermione's eyes were now glittering wetly, and Ron felt like throwing up. This couldn't be real…but… there it was… a small, unassuming and flat tombstone lay in the neatly trimmed grass. "Harry James Potter," it read across the top, "b. July 31, 1980- d. June 18th, 1996, and 'the bravest of heart'" printed underneath. Ron swallowed thickly. What were they even doing here? There wasn't even a body to bury. Before he could say his sentiment to Hermione Dedalus Diggle stepped forward.

"We are gathered today to morn and pay our respects to a boy, a young man, who we loved. There isn't a script for this service, it is only for us who knew him best. So, we'll just take turns talking." He took a step back. Everyone stood in silence staring at the ground for a while. Mrs. Figg began first…

"I moved to Privet Dr. in November of 1981, I'm a squib, and Dumbledore placed me there to keep watch over Harry while he grew up at his Relatives. I think I failed him…" her voice broke, "They never were kind, but if I had appealed to Dumbledore more often perhaps something would have been done. Harry deserved more love in his life." Augusta, showing more tenderness than she was known for placed a hand on Mrs. Figg's shoulder. She also conjured a rose and laid it simply in front of the stone. Neville cleared his throat next.

"Harry was always good to me. He didn't need to be my friend, but he was. He stood up for me, and supported me. It was through his friendship that I survived my first years at Hogwarts. His legacy will live on. We'll" he looked directly at Ron and Hermione beseechingly, "we'll make sure of it. For now though, I'm not really sure what we'll do without you. Nothing will be the same"

Slowly everyone said something, things that were short and sweet and maybe a little empty…like everyone in attendance imagined themselves coming back to really talk in private with the slab of marble that was a cold representation of their lost friend and ally. Soon only Hermione and Ron were left.

"Harry..." began Hermione, she bit her lip, a poor attempt to stop her chin from quivering. " I don't know where you are now, but I hope you're happy. I hope your scar doesn't hurt you, and that you can finally be at peace from all of the unwanted publicity… I don't know what to say because I still can't believe that you're dead. You can't be…but we're all here, gathered around as if you were, and what if I'm just stuck in one of the stages of grief, what if I'm just the only one that can't accept that you're gone," her voice was very high pitched, she was losing it, careening towards grief, she, and everyone else, knew. "I can't accept it now." She repeated, trying to compose herself, "And I don't want to go home tomorrow and have to face a world without you in it… You and Ron are my best friends, what are we supposed to do?" Ron gripped her hand tightly, "but whatever happened, it wasn't your fault, and we'll find a way to finish what we started together. We love you." She ended, barley finishing before her voice died. Then Ron was the only one. He took a step forward and Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder in solidarity and exhaustion from the emotionally draining day.

"Harry, remember when you showed me the Mirror of Erised First year?" He asked the ground, gulping back the tightness in his chest. "I think it would show me a different image now… I really wish you were here." He couldn't say anymore, so he just nodded, until he felt Hermione tug at his hand and they followed everyone back out the gate, through the childhood village Harry never got the chance to visit, and back to the Burrow, where an unexpected visitor waited for their return.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: again, sorry for the long delay. I'm not to sure what I think of this chapter, I don't like it as much as my earlier ones and even though I went over it a lot I couldn't pick anything that I wanted to change. So, it is what it is. Please review and let me know if you have any suggestions for events/scenarios you'd like to see. I have the basic plot of course, but there's room to be flexible.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the magical world of HP. **

CH. 9

Mrs. Weasley led the group from Godric's Hollow through the front gate of the Burrow.

"Don't mind taking off your shoes. We'll tidy up later." Her hand waved wearily indicated the dirt dusting the floor behind her.

They followed her slowly, shuffling feet, and sad, tired eyes. What was there to do now? Emptiness and sorrow hung thick in the air, and if it wasn't for the warm summer breeze members of the group would have started preparing to cast patronus's. Ugh, Patronuses, they would never see Harry's again. Hermione bit down on her lip, forehead creasing in grief. Really, what was there to do now? Sit? Eat the food that had been sent over for the last week? Pack for her journey home? Her Parents were coming to collect her tomorrow. Everything seemed pointless. She didn't even feel like reading. She shuffled forward blindly and bumped into Ginny's back. She looked up to see why the procession had stopped. Sitting at the worn-down dining room table was Severus Snape.

"You!" exclaimed Ron, brandishing his wand. "You didn't even come to his service! You spent the last five years hating him, being cruel and you can't even bother to show up?! I mean… I thought you'd be there to at least dance or gloat, or…" Ron's face was twisted into a dark scowl.

Snape stopped his remarks with a glare.

"Molly, Arthur." He stood and nodded to them. Molly returned his gaze icily.

"Do you know what happened to them?" She asked tight throated.

"The Headmaster had me on a separate mission." He matched her gaze pointedly, and droned, "I'm here to inquire if any of the students present know anything about Mr. Potter's detentions with Professor Umbridge this year?"

Hermione quietly asked. "Why?"

"Professor Dumbledore has reason to believe that she was not completely truthful in her notes of what happened in detentions. As Mr. Potter was in detention and under her supervision for multiple hours multiple weeks, he is hoping that perhaps some of you," He looked pointedly at Ron and Hermione, "might know what actually happened during those hours."

"Why does it matter now?" Asked Ron bitterly. He wasn't about to spill Harry's secrets without a very good reason... as far as he was concerned there was no, and could never be, a good reason to talk to Snape about Harry.

"The Headmaster is under the impression that some of her actions are Azkaban worthy. Of course, he cannot, at this time, organize a case against her, but I… can." Snape looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else. When no one moved to speak he made a deep sound of annoyance in the back of his throat as he cleared it uncomfortably. "Perhaps I can speak to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger alone?" The two exchanged worried looks as he ushered them into the kitchen and shut the door.

"It was a Blood Quill" Hermione blurted as soon as the faint click of the door echoed behind them.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Why would you tell?"

"Why wouldn't you, Ron?!" She spun around to look at him accusingly. "Harry _should_ have told someone immediately, but he didn't, and now Umbridge should pay, for that… and everything else."

"A Blood quill?" Professor Snape's eyebrows rose minutely.

"Yes."

"Was it used on anyone else?"

"Maybe Lee Jordan, but I'm not sure." Hermione's mouth twitched down at the corners. "What happened to her anyway?"

Snape breathed an exasperated sigh and his eyes focused above their heads on the wall behind them. His lips were a thin pale line.

"Sir?"

Snape appeared to be making up his mind. "Sit."

They sat.

"This is not an invitation to goad me." He looked very stern, maybe more serious than they had ever seen him before. Ron and Hermione remained silent. They could watch his temple pulsing. "I stunned Professor Umbridge because I had to." He glared daring them to ask "why?" They didn't. "After you were sent here I took her to the hospital wing. After it was discovered that the Black residence was connected to her Floo network she changed her story to support a kidnapping. She remained in the Hospital Wing until recently, but if nothing changes she will be the Headmistress next year." His mouth turned into a sneer. "Now that Potter is dead," Ron gritted his teeth in anger over the ambivalence in the Potion's Master's voice, "the public will care very much if he was abused under her supervision. She will be relieved of office if there is proof. Depending on the duration that Mr. Potter was forced to write with the blood quill she could be charged and imprisoned."

The two friends sat silently absorbing that information. Of course his well-being would matter more to the masses now that he was gone, mused Hermione bitterly. Why did no one care when he was alive? And now there was nothing left to do. Did everyone who ever wronged him just get away with it?! Well… of course they would, and what could she or anyone do about it. God, they had failed him. Memories swirled in her mind from their classes with Umbridge, from Harry's returns after detention. Why had they not forced him to tell someone? Why hadn't she told McGonagall? It could have stopped. Memories and lost chances kept flashing as she went over possible ways to offer proof of Umbridge's abuses of power. Then, it was so obvious. She sucked in a breath of air as if breathing in her idea.

"Can you take my memories?"

Snape contemplated. "We would need more than just yours."

"You can take mine too," blurted Ron, "I knew it was happening first. I'll share that."

"I'll share one from later on, where I try to help him bandage his hand one night." Hermione offered, "The extent of the scarring should be proof enough of the blood quills continued use."

Snape nodded sharply. That would do.

He excused himself from the mourning Weasley's and disapperated to Hogsmeade and walked back to Hogwarts and down to his office. He knew he should go to his private residence now. School was out for the summer; the noisy, nosey children were all gone, an elf could help him move his notes and boxes, but at his house there would be an incoming task from Albus, things to put in order, and a strange loneliness. Yes, he could return to his house, but he didn't want to when Hogwarts was his home. He liked the familiar walls, he liked the emptiness and comfort of the walk to his quarters, and he liked the solitude. After a day like today who wouldn't?

He slumped into his desk chair exhausted. He had not attended the boy's memorial service. He knew it would be a joke, and despite Ronald Weasley's suggestion that he should have gone just for his own sick amusement, he did not want to do that either. When the service was starting he had travelled to Godric's Hollow, and stood in front of Lily's grave. It was the first time he stood there in over ten years. He knew that Potter was fine. He was hiding out in Shell Cottage, the Dark Lord was gloating of the "murder" to his Death Eaters and sending the boy horrific and painful visions at his leisure. On second thought, perhaps "fine" was the wrong word, but he was living. Still though, he felt that he owed Lily an apology at least. His mission continued to be protecting her son, but somehow, he still felt that he had failed. He did not speak aloud to her grave, he had not spoken to her in his heart. He simply stood and reflected in silence until it was time to leave and wait for the Weasley's return.

* * *

Harry sat on the edge of his bed. One hand pressed a towel to his bleeding nose and the other supported his aching head. Remus sat in the chair in the corner and Sirius was leaned up against the door frame.

"What was it this time?" Sirius asked in a choked voice. Harry coughed and wiped at his nose shaking his head. Sirius and Lupin did not need to listen to his visions. He didn't want them knowing what he was seeing.

"Harry?"

Harry shook his head again. "He just wants me to know that he knows that I'm still alive." He said dismissively. "Look, I'm going to go get cleaned up… I'll meet you in the kitchen?" It was his way of getting them to leave his room. He knew that they cared. That was obvious, but he didn't want an audience. They were worse than Ron and Hermione when it came to the worrying. As they nodded and made their way back down the hall Harry stumbled into the small bathroom they shared. He splashed cold water onto his face and stared at himself in the mirror. Only a few more days, right? Just a few more days until the Weasley's and Hermione would know, and that would make some of this better. It wouldn't change the fact that the world thought he was dead, that he would be in hiding for the foreseeable future, or that he didn't know Dumbledore's plan and felt abandoned. But, with his friends…with his friends things were better. Maybe they could help him work on a plan. Brainstorm. Cope. Whatever. At least he could get the most of the summer with them, and that beat the Dursley's by a long shot. He rubbed at the bit of dried blood clinging to his nostrils. He was insanely grateful for Sirius and Lupin, They were like parents, or crazy uncles, and they obviously cared about and loved him. It felt so good to be loved, but this was not how he envisioned life would be like living with them. None of the jokes and mischief, their constant worry and haggard looking faces, not being able to even go outside to explore, or go for a walk, or fly. He washed his hands and wrung out the rag. He wished he had paid more attention to Snape during Occlumency lessons. He would give anything now to block Voldemort's attacks. He knew he had burned that bridge, there was no way Snape would teach him now. The image of his father's sneering and laughing face mocked him as he studied his face in the mirror before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom.

He found Remus and Sirius on the sofa. Talking quietly over cups of tea.

"Hi" He announced himself and sat down on the ground leaning his back against the old material of the couch.

"Harry," began Sirius, "We sent a message to Dumbledore a few days ago. This…" he indicated Harry's head, "We can't keep watching this happen to you. You can't keep having it happen to you. When was the last time you slept? Or smiled?"

Harry laughed harshly. "Yeah, how could I not be smiling when I'm trapped in here and unable to do anything?"

Sirius responded with a hard stare.

Harry inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry. I'm glad that I have you two, I just wish I knew what was going on." There, Hermione would be proud of him for apologizing and not just storming off.

"It's okay," Sirius put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, why don't we do something today, more than the usual sit and do nothing?"

"Sure, do you have any ideas?"

"This cottage is heavily warded and protected. I don't see why we can't have some fun with magic in here."

"It's summer, I don't even have my wand, and last time I did anything out of school there was a trial."

Remus gave Sirius a worried look. It was unusual for Harry to be so unresponsive and negative. He was the son of a Marauder for goodness sakes and he had to know that his magic was untraceable now.

"Harry, you can borrow one of ours for now. Ron has your wand I think, you'll get it back. Also, the cottage is untraceable. You cannot be found as long as you are here."

Harry nodded silently.

"Awesome," Stated Sirius with exuberance, "What do you want to work on? Oooooohhhh we could practice dueling!" He was already off the sofa and dancing around. Remus had cleared the kitchen counters as if preparing for a battle. He tossed Harry his wand. Harry spun the wand in his fingers for a second, watching the sunlight gleam from the window off the polished wood. Then a reassuring and almost mischievous glint sparkled from Harry's eyes again.

"Actually, can we talk about Wards?"

And Sirius smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Happy Wednesday. I know it's been a while, so thank you to all of you who are still reading! I hope you enjoy, and please review.**

**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places belong to J.K Rowling. Also, special thanks to ncalkins, for the inspiration.**

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CH 10.

Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Harry Potter sat gathered around the circular kitchen table. The light wood matched the decor of the rest of the cottage, obviously second-hand but comfortable. Remus's fingers traced a long scratch that stood out on the surface contemplating the best way to answer Harry's question about wards. He wanted to know if a protected area could expand to another temporarily. The cottage to the Burrow for instance. That was too far, but the concept of stretching the wards was interesting. The day had taken a turn for the better. It was really good actually. Next to and across from him Sirius and Harry were talking animatedly about the marauder's map and the genius behind it.

"Now, it was surprisingly difficult to get the map to track everyone. That alone took a year to figure out," Sirius was explaining, "Go fish." He smiled over his dog eared set of cards. Harry rolled his eyes as he picked up one of the face down cards in the center of the table.

"Are you sure you aren't cheating?"

Sirius barked a laugh. "Me?" He shrugged his shoulders comically.

"Yeah, and what do you mean it was 'surprisingly difficult' to track everyone's location despite disguises and enchantments? Didn't you expect that to be difficult?'

"Maybe, but we had the 'Great Moony' on our side, that helped a bit"

"Don't drag me into this Sirius," warned Remus throwing up a hand and wearing an amused expression. "That was a crazy year."

Harry fought back an urge to ask more about it and instead asked, "Could we make another map? One of the Ministry, or of Diagon Alley?"

"Why?" Remus's eyebrows had bunched together and his head tilted slightly to the left. Harry shrugged.

"It could be good to know, be on the watch for people."

Remus's concern did not dissipate. He paused for a second inhaling in a long breath, "While that may seem like a good idea, it's not. We were young when we invented the map. We used it for pranks and to sneak out of our dormitory at night, but to use it as a security measure, especially without the public's permission, would be an error, an insane breach of trust."

"But what if they didn't know? What if we could use it for the greater good of people…?" Harry's green eyes were large and expressive with the potential a Master Map could bring. But Remus interrupted palms pushing out and down as if smothering Harry's blossoming ideas.

"Soon, when all this blows over, you and Professor Dumbledore will have a talk about the 'Greater Good." He looked slightly nervous.

"Why wait for Dumbledore? I mean, I understand that it's a bad idea _initially_, but if it helps people _ultimately_, than maybe it's worth it. As long as it doesn't get into Ministry or Death Eater hands it could only help people. Think about how prepared the Order could be. I think we should run it by Mad-Eye at least."

"Drop it for now, Harry." Broke in Sirius lips pursed staring at his cards. "Do you have an eight of hearts?" When Harry didn't he continued as he drew from the shrinking pile. "Even if it was possible to track so many people, creating a map, uncontained by wards, of constantly changing and moving structures, over such a large premises, is out of the question… for now." He knew it was out of the question period, but the day was nice, and there was no reason to start an unnecessary row with his godson.

Eventually Harry won, and Sirius claimed he had an unfair advantage since he had played Go Fish in primary school and Sirius was just learning it, but it didn't really matter. They were all bored. All the normal topics of conversations were tired now and the group basically sat around twiddling their thumbs and waiting for the evening so they would have an excuse to get up and make dinner.

Harry sighed deeply, "Can we at least go down to the beach? We haven't been out of here since arriving." He knew he was whining, but he didn't care. Well, maybe a little, but not enough to stop. He forced himself to take a deep breath. This cottage was not the Dursley's. Sirius and Remus loved him and weren't keeping him locked up because they wanted to punish him for being freakish. They were just as trapped as he was, trapped because of him. They were trying to protect him, but he had proven time and time again that he was capable of protecting himself. "Sirius, come on, what could it hurt? Moony made _extra_ sure the location was secure when we got here. Even Dumbledore showed up, and he's in hiding too." He was playing dirty now. He knew that Sirius hated being indoors as much as he did. Sirius made puppy dog eyes at Remus.

"Yeah Moony, what could it hurt?" Remus dragged a hand across his face. They had a point. With a big sigh he raised his hands in reluctant surrender.

"Okay, okay. Let's go. Just between the house and the beach though." He called after them as they barreled out of the door. Laughing, he ran after them. And for a while things were okay… Sirius transformed into Padfoot, and Remus rested in the evening sun watching them wrestle and play in the surf. Technically this _was_ against their instruction, but really, it hardly made a difference security wise, and did a whole lot of good for everyone's emotional being. He gave hearty laugh as harry tackled the big dog and then was promptly thrown into the wet sand. Padfoot ran up to Remus with a grin on his face and his tongue lolling out. He looked exceedingly proud of himself. Maybe they could do this more often. Grinning at Sirius Remus looked up and called to Harry, "Harry, why don't we have dinner out here?" But Harry didn't respond. He continued to stare into the ocean. Maybe he hadn't heard. "Harry?" He repeated walking toward him. Harry's back was stiff and his hands were clenched in fists at his side.

"Harry?"

When Harry dropped to his knees at fell face first into the sand Remus ran, Padfoot on his heels.

"Harry!" Remus flipped him over quickly hands hovering over his body, unsure of what to do. Sirius transformed back to himself and knelt next to his Godson's head. Harry's eyes were clenched tightly, creasing in pain.

"Harry?" Sirius gently shook his shoulder, "Come on, open your eyes, what hurts?" He was trying to be calm, but on the inside he was panicking. Harry's hands had moved to clench at his scar, fingernails tearing at the thin skin.

"Hey, Hey, Stop it!" Sirius gripped Harry's hands in his own and gritted his teeth and Harry gripped them crushingly. "Remus," he called over his shoulder, "Send a message to Snape!" It was the first time since probably first year that he had said Snape's name without sarcasm, anger, or hatred behind it. As Remus turned and sprinted to the house Sirius gave his attention to Harry. He was whimpering and tears leaked out the corner of his closed eyes. He felt hot to the touch. "Come one, Harry- wake up." Sirius whispered. "Don't let him in. You can do this. Wake up." Harry's back arched off the sand and he cried out in agony.

"Nooooo!" Harry wrenched his eyes open gasping and looking to Remus with large pained eyes, "We have to help them!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Sirius tried to steady Harry as he rolled over on all fours and began pushing himself up. He was dry-heaving, his forehead pressed against the crook of his elbow. "Who's hurt, Harry?!" Harry pushed himself up and took off at a wobbly run to the cottage door. Sirius took off after him, he caught him just as Harry had pulled the door open. He grabbed his shoulders and twisted him around. Harry stiffened violently in his hands. His eyes were huge and he was breathing quickly.

"Who needs help?!" Sirius repeated loudly.

"Sirius?" Remus's concerned gaze lingered on them from the place near the fire where he had just sent their message.

"The Burrow, He's at the Burrow." Harry's lips barely moved, his eyes shifting as he searched for an escape.

"What?" Remus stood up to join the pair.

"He's at the Burrow! We need to help them!" He wrenched himself out of Sirius's grasp and stumbled backwards.

"Harry, He wants to push you out of hiding."

"The Burrow is _very_ protected. I'm sure they're all fine."

"No! They are _not_" Harry pressed his fists against his forehead and doubled over. "WE NEED TO HELP THEM!" His voice was cracking in desperation.

"What happened?" asked Remus in an attempt to soothe.

"We-we don't have time for that! We need to leave now!" Harry was scanning the room, "Shit!" he exclaimed searching the countertops and tables with his eyes. "Why don't I have a wand?!"

When Remus and Sirius stood beside him, concern creasing their eyes, but motionless, Harry rounded on them.

"Why aren't you doing anything? We need to go- NOW. THEY ARE ALL GOING TO DIE" Harry was taking big gulping gasps, "Oh God, they're all going to die, this is all my fault- my fault."

Sirius understood this feeling a little too well and sank into a chair. Images that hadn't passed in front of his waking eyes since Azkaban now hovered in his vision. Lily and James. Really, this whole predicament was _his_ fault.

"Sirius!" Remus's curt voice snapped him out of it. He gulped down the knot in his throat.

"Harry, we can't leave."

"No, _No_. We _need_ to. DON"T YOU UNDERSTAND?" Harry crossed the room quickly to the fireplace and threw the floo on the mantel into it. "THE BURROW!"

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat on his bead staring at the wall. His room was dark. He had pulled the heavy velvet shades closed till only slit of sunlit filtered through in the center_. Stupid bloody Potter_, He glared angrily at his knees. Why did he have to go and die and ruin the summer? Not that Potter could ruin the summer. Draco didn't think about him _that_ much. Just… him being dead and all, complicated some of his family's plans. Some of his decisions, and now he was stuck in his stupid, bloody room while his mother whispered to Aunt Bellatrix in the Parlor downstairs. _Ugh_. He fell back against his bed. The silk sheets rubbed too smoothly against the back of his head. It was annoying. He stared broodingly at the ceiling. _"I am going to take the Dark Mark in a month._" He whispered to himself. His heart pounded a little harder in his chest whenever he thought about it. But it was a done deal. He was excited, right? Ready? He inhaled deeply through his nose. He was in an interesting position. He would be the youngest initiate since Severus Snape. That was a big deal. His family was already doing well, all of father's work for the Dark Lord, the poisoning of the Ministry, none of it had been blamed on the Malfoy's. They were in the clear, and now that _Potter_, he scowled even at the thought of him, was dead, he would be the most influential student at Hogwarts. He should be happy, but instead, ugh. He couldn't wait for the summer to be over. He was going to have a mission, the Dark Lord needed someone at Hogwarts, someone not as closely watched as Severus. Draco was going to be that person. He stood up and started pacing. Letters from his friends lay unopened on his mahogany desk. After the fourth time Pansy had asked about his thoughts about Potter he stopped answering, or opening her mail. He had heard that she was good for some things - talking was not one of them. Crabbe and Goyle had been by the manor, but they, just as dim-witted as ever, didn't offer much in the way of conversation. His mind flicked to Granger. He wondered her thoughts on all of this. He shook his head roughly. Nope. Not going to think about her. _Ugh, he needed to get out of here_. It set his teeth on edge hearing the harsh hissing of his aunt through the vents as she whispered about him, trying to convince his mother that she wasn't sacrificing her only child for her husband's gain. He wasn't going to be sacrificed, his chin pulled down in indignation. He was going to make his father proud, make his mum proud, and he certainly wasn't going to _die_. What sixteen year olds ever died? Oh, right, stupid Potter, ruining his stupid summer. Groaning he sauntered downstairs.

"Mum, I want to floo to Severus's" he called over his shoulder, sticking his wand up his sleeve, and walking towards the grand fireplace.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix hissed.

Narcissa raised her hand in a silencing movement, "No," she looked pointedly at her sister. "That's fine, be back for dinner."

Draco nodded coolly and left his home.

"Sev!" he called stepping out of the green flames.

"What if I was busy and couldn't entertain you, Draco? What would you do then?" Asked his Godfather walking around the corner. He still wore all black, even in the summer.

"Be bored." He moodily kicked his feet up on the coffee table as he plopped down into the comfortable dark leather couch. Severus was not wealthy like the Malfoy's, but he was one of the few people Draco didn't judge because of it. His home was well furnished and comfortable. Severus gave him a pointed look and swat at his legs.

"Your feet do not belong there."

Draco rolled his eyes and moved them.

"I have things to do in my study. You can either join me, or you can wait out here."

Draco sighed and got up to follow him. Severus's study was down a narrow hall and to the right. It was a mess of piles. Draco had never seen it so imperfect. Generally it was more organized than the Hogwarts Library.

"What are you doing?" he asked as Severus pointed at a chair and then knelt amongst the piles. "Ugh, couldn't you get an elf to do that for you?" he asked in disgust.

"Sometimes, cleaning up involves dirty work. I do not want an elf to know everything that is here." Severus went back to flipping through dusty notes, remaking piles of information. Draco thought about dirty-work. He felt a little sick to his stomach.

"Uncle Sev, could I ask you something?" He hadn't called Severus "Uncle" in years. It was a testament to how nervous he was.

Severus's eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

"Were you afraid? When you chose to work for the Dark Lord?" Severus stared at Draco, making him see how serious he was.

"Yes. Everyone is. It is rationale to be afraid, and the Dark Lord will know you are."

"But won't that upset him?"

"Why are you doing this, Draco? Why are you signing up, binding yourself to this life of servitude?"

Draco was taken aback. He wasn't a servant! He was a Malfoy! But… yes his father was a servant of the Dark Lord. He bowed and everything. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth as he thought.

"My father needs me too. The Dark Lord needs me, I want to…" he trailed off in indecision. Severus shook his head.

"Your indecision _will _upset the Dark Lord. If you truly want to do this you must have a good reason – a reason not built on love. Especially not built on your love and loyalty to your family. Also, the Dark Lord does not_ need_ you. You are a tool, and he has plenty of those."

Bile continued to rise in Draco's throat. "But if he doesn't need me then why should I do this?"

"Do you agree with His philosophies?"

Draco shook his head. He didn't know, he felt too young to know. All he knew was that he had been volunteered by his father. His father was a smart man. He wouldn't volunteer him for a poorly thought out reason. Draco could do this, he could be the best.

Snape stared at his godson and sighed. "Well, think on it more. I have work to do."

Draco made himself a cup of tea in the kitchen and went back to broodingly sitting in the study. Severus was in one of his moods where he didn't offer up conversation. He was focused, but it was almost time for dinner and he still felt conflicted. He didn't want to go home and rub elbows with Bella as his father stared on from the head of the table.

"Sev?"

Severus grunted in response.

"Do you regret your decision?"

"That is a very dangerous question, Draco."

In a way- Draco thought he might know his answer. In the other room the Fire "whooshed."

"That's probably a message from mum telling me I have five minutes. She treats me like a child. Want to join us for dinner? It would be fun to annoy Aunt Bella."

"Unfortunately, I have more important things to do than annoy your relatives. Go see what your mother wants"

Draco sighed in defeat and moved back the living room.

A note lay folded in the embers. URGENT inscribed across it. Draco tilted his head, something about the handwriting was familiar. He opened it as he walked, his jaw dropping lower and lower.

"What the _hell_ is this?!" He tossed the letter at Snape. Shock written all over his face.

"Draco," Snape's eyes had flitted over the message. He seemed nervous. Draco had never seen Snape nervous. "Draco, you either need to come with me or I will obliviate you. Do you understand?"

"You can't obliviate me!" Draco looked horrified.

"I might."

"What is going on?!"

Severus lit the paper on fire with of flick of his wand and it turned to ash almost immediately.

"Can I trust you?" Severus asked pointing his wand at his godsons face.

It was the first time Draco had ever been asked that.

"Yes."

"Fine, come with me." They stepped out the door of the house. "We're apparating." Draco gripped Severus's arm tightly, and they vanished and reappeared on the front steps of Shell Cottage.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry that this one is shorter than my average chapter length, but it felt like a good place to stop, and honestly, this chapter was really difficult to write, so this is it. Hopefully this means that my next update will be a lot sooner. Please review and let me know what you think/ want to see. Thanks. **

**Disclaimer: All of the beautiful ****characters ****and ****places ****belong to JK Rowling and not me. **

**CH.11 **

_"__Harry, we can't leave."_

_"__No, No. We need to. DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?" Harry crossed the room quickly to the fireplace and threw the floo on the mantel into it. "THE BURROW!" _

Nothing. Happened.

"THE BURROW!" Harry tried again, voice cracking tears slipping down his cheeks. "no,no,no,NO." he shook his head in frustration and denial.

Remus's hand pressed warmly on his shoulder in his attempt to comfort. "Harry…"

"We- we have to g-go!" Harry was mumbling as he sucked in deep breaths. Sirius's eyes were wide and pained, he wished that he was better at being comforting, sometimes being rash and funny just wasn't enough.

"Harry, it's only connected to Professor Snape. We can't go." Remus said softly, placating.

The desperation in Harry's eyes turned to determination. He would find a way to save his friends, his family. "Well, let's go there then! We can travel from there!" He struggled against Remus's strong grip. Now that there was an option he could take it! Sure, it was less than ideal… but considering the alternative…

_A pale face flashed behind his eyes, he was gleeful in his assessment. His eye's fixated on the two middle-aged muggles in the kitchen. Harry knew he had the advantage. How did he get through the Wards?_

"No. That's too dangerous. The Burrow is fine."

"NO! It's not!" Harry needed a plan. Maybe he could just make a run for it, he was fast… he could last until he could signal the Knight Bus…. Bad idea…Maybe…

Remus let go of Harry. Harry couldn't leave Shell Cottage after all, maybe he would feel in more control if he could move unhindered. "I sent a message to Professor Snape, he's probably checked up on everyone in the Order already." Remus stated directly and calmly. Despite past differences and grudge holding, Lupin trusted Dumbledore's word explicitly.

Harry clenched his hand against his forehead as if the pressure could improve the pain. Blood began to trail slowly from his left nostril, he could taste it in the back of his throat.

_Voldemort laughed as the youngest Weasley was thrown across the room. "Where is Harry Potter?" He asked the room at large._

"That doesn't mean anything! _Remus, He's there!"_ Said Harry, his voice rising again. "It's Snape! We need to go! You didn't see…" Harry turned, "Sirius, "he implored…Harry cut off as the door swung open.

Severus Snape loomed in the doorway.

Harry's head snapped up with the noise, dilated eyes focusing on Snape's face.

"Sir, we have to go! He's at the Burrow!" He ran towards his most despised teacher frantically, desperately. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand smearing blood across his face. He almost wanted to throw himself at the man to prove his seriousness, his blind desperation. He couldn't lose anyone else.

Snape regarded him seriously. This entire day and multiple people's futures were hanging on a thread. He should not have bought Draco, but then again… desperate times always called for desperation. Draco could not face a fate like his own, especially not under false pretenses of grandeur and familial pride. Even he had not been so deluded when initiated. Snape knew what the Dark Lord had planned for the boy. He would die. If Severus were honest with himself he would admit that having the blood of anymore innocent people on his hands would kill him too.

"Potter- What did you see?"

"Death Eaters, loads of them, they- they were all around, got through the wards, and…Please! Just go check on them!"

"What were the Weasley's doing?" It was important to know. A vision to Potter would seem real no matter what. But if what he saw was congruent with actual events, then they could have a real problem.

Harry sucked in a deep breath.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger were there." Harry swallowed a deep breath and closed his eyes as if willing himself not to be sick. Snape looked very serious. The Grangers had been scheduled to arrive that morning. "They must have been there to pick up Hermione. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen and Ginny was on the stairs. I don't know where Ron and Hermione were." Harry stopped, but Snape nodded urging him to continue. "Voldemort arrived, I don't know why, others were already there. It…Fred and George… This doesn't make sense! They're supposed to be safe! How would they get through?! Please, they're in so much trouble. They're hurt!" His voice broke on the last word.

Snape pulled out his wand and cast a Patronus. A doe emerged when Sirius let out an exclamation Snape shot him a nasty look before whispering to it. It leaped into nothingness. "I've sent it to Mad-Eye. I imagine he'll take Nymphadora, and Shacklebolt with him." He stared a second longer into the room, at Potter's tear and blood stained face and the weary and exhausted looks on his guardians. He shouldn't care. He doesn't care. But, if the Dark Lord was still actively attached to Harry than he needed to care if only for his own self-preservation. "May we come in?" He asked thin-lipped still in the doorway.

"We?" Black responded as Lupin made a small welcoming gesture. Snape stepped forward and Draco appeared behind him. His pale face impassive.

"I thought you were supposed to be dead, Potter." Chaos erupts.

"WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?"

"WHY DID YOU BRING HIM?"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA THE REPERCUSSIONS OF THIS?"

"OH NO, I'M SEVERUS SNAPE, ULTIMATE DOUBLE-CROSSER. NO RULES APPLY TO ME?'

As Sirius and Remus turned on Snape and each other Harry walked up to Draco.

"Malfoy," he greeted him coolly. And then punched him squarely on the nose. He didn't know what quite possessed him to do it, but it was so satisfying. He felt a little like Hermione. It just wasn't fair that of all the people to be let in on the secret it was _him_.

"Argh," Malfoy doubled over holding his now bleeding face. Snape turned around at the noise and Sirius and Remus followed his gaze just in time to see Malfoy look up at Harry and swing his fist. They both ended up on the ground. They stopped when the wand suddenly pressed against Harry's neck went flying across the room and Snape, his face puce in anger, pulled them apart. Two black eyes and a split-lip later they were sat down on the couch. Three angry adults at on chairs across from them.

"This is ridiculous" Sirius muttered. "You're still pissed about fifth year, so you endanger the life of my Godson!" he muttered under his breath.

"This endangers my life as well, you fool." Severus replied in a half-whisper.

"Well, it's not like I asked to be here!" added Draco.

Severus glared sternly at Draco in an expression most often reserved for Harry.

Remus cleared his throat and handed the boys ice packs.

"So, Severus, why did you bring Draco?" Remus asked, always the mediator.

"Well, if someone had properly concealed the message I wouldn't have had to."

"Draco read the message?" Remus was pale.

"He thought it could've been from his mother, and then when it wasn't, decided that sneaking was an acceptable option."

Draco had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"I recognized your hand-writing." His eyes met professor Lupin's. "I didn't know why Sev would still be talking to you."

"I generally have a cooler head. I thought I had concealed it, but I must have forgotten in my haste." Remus's eyes were large, his eyebrows rising up in the middle. His face had continued to pale considerably… If Draco had been anyone else, the consequences could have been much, much more dire.

"I- I don't… I don't Understand Severus. Why are we here at all?" Draco cut in again. He looked towards Harry, "Why does everyone think you're dead. I read the story in The Prophet, what really happened?" he asked accusingly.

Snape sat up straight and serious. Remus rose to grab mugs of water for the group. Sirius moved and scrunched down next to Harry throwing an arm over his shoulders in a show of support." Snape looked like he was repressing the urge to roll his eyes.

"Drac-" Snape had begun to speak when a Patronus appeared in the room. It had Mad-Eye's voice.

"The Burrow was attacked. Malfoy, Dolov, and Carrow have been apprehended. The rest have not yet been located. We have three casualties. Voldemort has been confirmed, press are coming. Dumbledore has been contacted. Await further news." Moody's voice was very tired.

Harry sank deeper into the couch cushions as Moody's voice faded. _Three casualties_… Aurors, Family, did it matter? If only he had insisted they leave sooner, had done something faster, had died last year in the graveyard, none of this would be happening.

"Harry! Harry!" fingers snapped in front of his face causing his eyes to cross before focusing of Sirius's worried eyes.

"They got help… They're going to be okay."

Harry nodded numbly, but despair had already had set in. This was not alright. Nothing would be alright and they didn't know who was and was not okay.

Sick was bubbling up his throat, hot and sour. He stood grimacing and headed to the toilet Sirius following him, placing a fist against the door when Harry shut it in his face.

"Let me in… C'mon, Harry"

Remus gazed down the hall in sympathy before returning his attention back their guests. He sighed deeply running his fingers through his tangled hair. It took him a second to realize that Snape was staring at Draco with worry and deep-rooted concern. The boy had not so much as moved after Moody's situation report. But, ah, Malfoy had been one of the ones caught. Well, maybe it was providential that he was at the cottage when it suddenly seemed quite likely that his family would be needing a very low profile.

"Sev," Draco looked up, vulnerability shining from his eyes. "What are we going to do?" he glanced down at his hands that had twisted together and Remus felt, suddenly, like an interloper. "I still don't understand why we are here." Draco had noticed Lupin again and paused, pressing his lips shut and exhaling sharply through his nose.

Severus ran his hand across his forehead as if to iron out the wrinkles that had developed over the past six years.

"When Potter returns we will have a lot to discuss and then some decisions to make. This time there will be no fighting." He looked exasperated and exhausted. "I am a spy, but for Dumbledore, and not the Dark Lord. The story is long, and it involves both you and Potter."


	12. Chapter 12

**CH 12: **

**A/N: I bet you all thought I abandoned this…haha tricked you. Actually, I am really sorry for the delay. I hope you'll still read it. I'd like to promise that I'll post more consistently in the future, but that would be a lie, so just know that I promise to keep writing this- even if I occasionally take obnoxiously long breaks. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if there's anything you want to see, or a plot hole I'm totally ignoring, feel free to tell me in a review- I love feedback, and if I messed something up I might not notice until you point it out, as this is un-beta-d. Also, I know Snape is kind of OOC- let's just go with it a little for now- and I'll work on writing grumpier in future chapters. Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer: not mine- I think everyone knows that.**

_Harry nodded numbly, but despair had already had set in. This was not alright. Nothing would be alright and they didn't know who was and was not okay._

_Sick was bubbling up his throat, hot and sour. He stood grimacing and headed to the toilet Sirius following him, placing a fist against the door when Harry shut it in his face._

_"__Let me in… C'mon, Harry" _

_Remus gazed down the hall in sympathy before returning his attention back their guests. He sighed deeply running his fingers through his tangled hair. It took him a second to realize that Snape was staring at Draco with worry and deep-rooted concern. The boy had not so much as moved after Moody's situation report. But, ah, Malfoy had been one of the ones caught. Well, maybe it was providential that he was at the cottage when it suddenly seemed quite likely that his family would be needing a very low profile. _

_"__Sev," Draco looked up, vulnerability shining from his eyes. "What are we going to do?" he glanced down at his hands that had twisted together and Remus felt, suddenly, like an interloper. "I still don't understand why we are here." Draco had noticed Lupin again and paused pressing hi lips shut exhaling sharply through his nose._

_Severus ran his hand across his forehead as if to iron out the wrinkles that had developed over the past six years. _

_"__When Potter returns we will have a lot to discuss and then some decisions to make. This time there will be no fighting." He looked exasperated and exhausted. "I am a spy, but for Dumbledore, and not the Dark Lord. The story is long, and it involves both you and Potter."_

* * *

"Sirius, this is all my fault."

Sirius opened his mouth to interject but the look Harry gave him up through wet eyelashes made him stop. Telling Harry it wasn't his fault for the umpteenth time wasn't going to produce different results.

"Why do you feel that this is because of you?" Harry's chin wobbled a little in response, and he bit down hard on the inside of his bottom lip. He just shook his head in response.

Knees cracking Sirius sat down on the floor across from Harry's perch on the closed toilet lid. "We really need to sweep in here more often- huh?" he said pinching a bit of dust between his fingers trying to ease the tension. It didn't work.

"It's Hermione's parents, and Ginny. Ginny's going to be okay- though, it's still my fau-" he broke off with a cough." Mrs. Weasley won't let me come over again, and that's okay- I mean, I get it, those are her kids, her family- I wouldn't want a freak like me to endanger them anymore either." He looked at Sirius finally, "Hell, Hermione and Ron have risked their lives so many times already- it's _good_ they think I'm dead- better for everybody this-umpf'" Sirius had reached up and hugged him pulling Harry down into his shoulder. "Your friends are lucky to have you. They love you. Molly loves you too, she's worried, but as we told you earlier- they are in the Order. Molly and Arthur assume all responsibility for the risk they put their family in. This is not your fault."

Harry tucked his shoulder down, nodding a little and pulling a soggy washcloth off the counter and wiping at his face. "Hermione isn't going to be okay- how could she be. Her parents, I saw them collapse. They looked dead."

"Did you see what hit them?"

Harry pursed his lips again shaking his head the negative. "It was from Voldemort's perspective again." he whispered ashamed. "He just went to enjoy the show. I think he wanted me to see it."

Sirius left a hand on Harry's shoulder bracingly. "Come on, let's go back out and find out the news."

Harry's chin wobbled a little still, but his eyes were hard and steady. He raised to his feet with a deep, pained sigh. Sirius wanted to say something to help, but there was nothing to stay. It struck him painfully how goddamned lost Remus and he were all the time. What were they supposed to tell the kid? Hell, at first he had just been so happy to have Harry somewhere safe, out of the Ministry's, and potentially Voldemort's, clutches. And Harry had trusted them. He had trusted them to actually make things better, to stay with him. He trusted them, even when he didn't trust Dumbledore, and only did what Dumbledore said _because _of that trust. Any words of reassurance now seemed hollow. Sirius heaved his own sigh as he followed Harry out and back into the living space.

"Any word from Mad-Eye?" Harry slowly walked back into the room, Sirius's hand still on his shoulder as he moved to stand with his back pressed into the mantel over the fireplace instead of next to Malfoy. He seemed resigned to fix whatever had come their way.

"Not yet," Remus responded empathetically. Snape cleared his throat and ground his teeth.

"Sit down, Potter." Despite his harsh tone it was obvious he was trying to be civil. "Let it be known that this information is extremely dangerous for me to share, and I would not be sharing it, if not for some unfortunate recent developments."

No one said anything, and Malfoy began picking at a small thread hanging loosely from his shirt. Snape still made eye contact with everyone in the room. When no one spoke he started…

"I'm a spy." Snape confessed again looking at Draco who sat stiffly on the couch, back not touching the cushioning. Though he spoke deliberately, and chose this moment to divulge his secrets to his godson, and even though the old enemies and wary allies already new this to be true, expelling the three words from his mouth still felt like drawing out poison. It was painful, and final, and permanent. He hoped he was not ruining Draco's life. If he was, at least he was more likely to live longer with the coming knowledge.

"When I was in school…" Snape looked up glaring at Remus and Sirius. In a way he wanted them to leave. They knew this story as much as they needed to. He found his voice lodged uncomfortably in the back of his throat. He wasn't going to talk about this while the Wolf stared back at him with regret and sympathy and the Dog scoffed unbelievingly. Their presence made this more uncomfortable, and while it might be childish to hold onto grudges for so long, the pain for their youth was too deep.

"Leave."

"What?" Harry was clinging to Black's sleeve in an infantile fashion, and Black's jaw had dropped open to protest.

"Go." He couldn't do this with them there. They didn't need to hear the whole story. Draco did, and Potter needed to hear it if they were going to be forced to working together again. But these…tormentors, they didn't need to laugh at his pain again. Black was going to argue, but stopped when Lupin gave him a pointed look and jutted his chin at the hallway. They grudgingly left, and even though Severus knew that they could probably still hear him, it was easier to speak with them effectively out of the room.

"I'm half-blood, and the muggle I was most familiar with was my father. He was not…"

(a small boy crying in the corner)

"… a good man"

Potter was giving him a hard look head slightly tilted.

"The closest children to me were also muggles, I thought. But…later I discovered that one of them was a witch." He was looking at Potter strongly, and Harry nodded as the pieces clicked into place.

"My mother."

"Yes." Snape took a long sip of tea looking awkward and out of place. "We became friends."

"However, as the school years progressed, our friendship was challenged, and became broken. I needed new people to trust. I became friends with Lucius. My mother had recently died and he became like an older brother. A protector and a confidant. We became such good friends that naming me your godfather-" he looked at Draco beseechingly again, "was expected. He introduced me to the Dark Arts, he introduced me to Voldemort. The Dark Lord, offered me a family when I didn't have one. He offered me power when I felt powerless, and revenge on those I despised. While eventually, I grew disillusioned with the Dark Lord's ideology, it was too late. When you are in, you are involved forever- or at least until you die." Snape matched Draco's gaze until the boy looked away. "I became what was necessary to live. And to live well in the Dark Lord's army is to be an obedient slave. One day I was spying for Him when I heard a prophecy."

Harry's face paled, realization and anger sinking deep into his bones.

"The prophecy was about the Dark Lord and a potential future rival..." but Snape trailed off as a patronus once again alit the room…

* * *

Hermione knelt down in between her parents frozen bodies and pressed her face into her knees. Her shoulders shook with tears.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Ron was breathing to her. He knelt in front of her. Trying to be of comfort, hand hovering over her shoulder unsure if touch would be appreciated. How does one comfort someone who was reeling so recently from grief?

"Hermione?" He asked again, trying to get a response, but she was so focused.

"Mum…? Daddy?" she gripped each of their unresponsive hands, "Mum? Dad?" She shook each of their hands in a frantic fast motion as if trying to wake them up from sleep. She had seen it happen. She had stood from the top of the staircase looking down in horror as the robed and masked death eater in the kitchen had pointed at them first. It was so senseless! There had been no reason, no motive to do that. They were just innocent, harmless muggles coming to pick up their grief-stricken daughter from her friend's house. They weren't fighting for or against anything. They weren't involved in the upcoming war, they didn't even know about the upcoming war, and she… Hermione's breath hitched, she was just a child really, and what threat did she pose? Her face crumpled again in the injustice of it all. Each heart beat was shattering.

"Miss?" an unfamiliar hand touched her shoulder. She jerked looking up into an auror's face. "Let's go get you checked out…"

"No!" she cried turning away from him, "These are my parents." Her voice broke. Her entire body was cold and shaking. The hand didn't leave her shoulder even though she tried to shake it off. The auror knelt behind her. Reaching around to grab her hand, he pressed her fingers firmly into her mother's wrist. A faint pulse beat against her fingers. Her eyes widened and she gasped turning to face the man behind her eyes welled up in newly found hope.

"They need medical attention, you need to get up so mediwizards can get through."

Nodding quickly and getting to her feet stumbling, she moved out of the way, leaning into Ron as he guided her to the kitchen.

"I think everyone gathered in here." Indeed, when they entered the kitchen everyone was there. Ginny sat on the floor listlessly leaning against Mrs. Weasley as one healer moved a wand across a gash on her forehead and another carefully probed her unnaturally bent ankle. Ron pushed Hermione gently towards a chair which she sat in dazedly. How did this even happen? Based on everyone's expressions she was not the only one thinking it.

"Well," Moody stated, never afraid of asking the direct questions "How did this happen?"

"Our Wards were based on Love. Not as powerful as the protection and the Wards around the Dursley house because of Lily's love, but our wards can only be breached by someone who loves us. Bill and I set them up together as a project his final year at Hogwarts. The only way someone would have known how to undo them was if they were there..."

Suddenly Arthur's face paled.

"What?" asked Mad-Eye gruffly.

"Peter, um…Peter was there- in rat form of course. He uh- he kept scurrying up my shoulder to look over our work. Bill and I thought it was the funniest thing…"

Moody cursed colorfully. Looking around at the people gathered in the kitchen, "Well, we can't stay here." He stared at he kitchen door a second, "The Grangers are being prepped for transport to Mungos, and you lot need to get somewhere safe."

The kitchen was quiet.

"I'd like to stay with my parents," said Hermione quietly. "They'll need an explanation when they wake up, and I need to be with them."

Mad-Eye nodded approvingly.

"We can stay with Muriel for the time being." Said Arthur. Ron pulled a face at that, but was otherwise as accepting as everyone else. "After we're all settled, we can pick you up from Mongos, Hermione," Arthur continued. "You can stay with us until your parents are healed."

Hermione nodded expressionlessly.

"Right then, go pack up, we leave in twenty minutes. I need to contact some people about this, and then we'll get going to Muriel's."

**Up next (unless someone inspires me with an idea that is cooler than this one): We get to meet Aunt Muriel. Snape will finish his story, and we'll find out how the heck ****wormtail ****dismantled the Weasley's protections. **


	13. Chapter 13

CH: 13

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters are not mine.

**A/N:** I'm back, and I think posting will get more regular soon. Special thanks to The Awesome **HalfBloodPrincess110** for beta-ing. All remaining mistakes are my own. Please let me know what you think... enjoy the chapter.

* * *

_"The prophecy was about the Dark Lord and a potential future rival..." but Snape trailed off as a patronus once again alit the room…_

Harry leaped from where he was sitting towards the light, had it been a person he would've clung to their shoulders. Remus and Sirius ran back into the room at the sound of Moody's voice.

_"The Grangers are en route to St Mungo's, the Weasleys and Hermione will be staying with Muriel Weasley. They are all, for the moment, safe and being looked after. I urge you to maintain constant vigilance."_

A physical sigh worked its way through the room with people visibly relaxing, except Draco who still looked concerned.

"What about my father?"

"I don't know," answered Snape. His tone was impassive, but his eyes were soft when they met his godson's eyes.

"I want to go home; I need to be with my mother."

"You can't."

Draco let out an indignant huff. "Like hell I can't. I didn't ask to be brought here Sev. I didn't ask to be brought into whatever game you're playing. My father is in custody, my mother is with Bellatrix, and for all I know the Dark Lord will be showing up in my home. I need to be there." He rose to leave.

"No, you need to sit down."

Draco remained standing but didn't move.

"The prophecy…those are what's in the glass balls, that's our weapon." Harry entered back into the conversation. Now that he knew definitively that his friends were safe and being cared for, he remembered his curiosity in the previous conversation.

"Yes." Snape tersely replied, eyes still on his godson.

"Why does it matter- what's so important about it?"

Snape seemed to struggle to not roll his eyes at the boy's stupidity. "Knowledge matters, Potter. Surely you've heard the term 'knowledge is power?'"

Harry's expression was scathing. "Snape, what did the prophecy say."

"That is for Dumbledore to tell you."

"You should tell me- you're here right- you brought Malfoy into all this- he'll probably need to be oblivated, what's the point in more secrets? It's how we got here."

Snape's expression was flat, not unlike in his potions lessons when he was seconds from deducting house points for abysmally poor work.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I'm sure you can take up your grievances with Professor Dumbledore…" Harry let out a disgusted sound and looked away, "Oh, not fond of him at the moment? Even the supposed greatest wizard of all time isn't good enough for you?"

Harry just glared.

"As it stands, I did not hear the entire prophecy. So, I can't tell you anyway. However, at its crux, you and the Dark Lord are connected in some way."

Harry's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Snape rolled his eyes, "Surely, this isn't a surprise, how many times have you fought him already?"

"Severus, why am I here?" Demanded Malfoy again.

"Sit down."

"No."

"I brought you because if I didn't you were going to die. That's the Dark Lord's plan."

Draco sat. "What?"

"I couldn't let that happen. I had a tentative plan, but when you read the letter- well, plans change."

"So, what? I'm never going to see my parents again? I wanted to join! I could have saved us!"

Snape's eyes glanced surreptitiously towards the hallway where he could only imagine Lupin and the Dog had their ears pressed against the door.

"Your father is now in jail,"

"He'll get out- "

"Your mother is vulnerable and Bellatrix has taken up residency in your house. You would've died."

"You don't know that!" Draco lifted his chin defiantly, in an action of outrage so similarly to Potter that it increased the pressure building behind Severus's eyes considerably.

"Your task was to kill Albus Dumbledore. You. would. have. died," Snape hissed.

Draco stood breathing hard, staring at Snape in shock. He had experienced a growth spurt this summer and was almost the same height as the older man, but despite that he suddenly looked small.

"And," Snape continued, "I have sworn to protect both of you with my life, for my entire life. Let me do my job."

"What?" Harry snarled back disgusted, "protect us- protect ME, you- you've done nothing You've made life like hell! You don't give a damn, you…you…"

"Harry,"

"HA- Harry? I think that's the first time you've even called me that. I can't believe this!" He stood and went to move down the hallway. Snape's hand reached out grabbing his upper arm and pulling him back. Harry flinched but remained glaring indignantly as he was brought next to Malfoy who looked equally livid.

"You never gave a damn," he whispered, his voice soft in fury. "You never cared at ALL. Who did you promise to look out for us? Dumbledore? Because I think you're off the hook- and I don't need your protection anyway."

Snape looked like he wanted to say a great many things, but all that came out was "I promised your mother."

"What?"

"As I said, we were friends. I promised her I'd protect you." That of course wasn't exactly true, but it was true enough. He had devoted the last five and a half years to the boy, and after all, the ungrateful, arrogant, brat just didn't know it.

"Well why didn't you protect her? She's dead! And you were working for Voldemort! If you were really her friend you would have saved her, and then none of this would matter…" Harry trailed off, his eyes suspiciously wet, he looked away so that Draco wouldn't see.

"Who wanted me protected?" Draco asked strangely softly.

"Your mother. She was concerned. She imagined the Dark Lord's plans were taking a more sinister tone than normal. She cares very much for you, even if she doesn't always know how to show it."

Draco nodded. Harry wiped at his nose with his sleeve, trying to avoid attention.

"So, what now?" Harry asked stiffly, swallowing, "Malfoy's stuck here? My own friends don't even know I'm alive…"

"Hey, I'm not a fan of this either Potter!"

Snape raised his hands in a placating manner. "Just wait. Please, just sit down and wait." He rubbed his temples and went to retrieve the 'adults' from the other rooms, no doubt they heard everything, and unfortunately, he needed to coordinate with them. Indeed, Lupin looked shamefaced- they had been eavesdropping.

"Draco can stay here, Severus, at least for the night."

Snape nodded sharply in annoyed gratitude as they joined their charges in the living room.

"Harry, why don't you show Draco around the house? We'll call you both in later." Remus suggested at the back of their heads. He sounded oddly like Molly Weasley in that moment. Harry stood groaning inwardly.

"C'mon, Malfoy."

* * *

"How're your parents?" Ron asked as Hermione came into his room. Well, his room at Muriel's, which smelled like mothballs and looked like a pink doily monster had ransacked the place. It never changed. The good rooms were a little further down the hall, but ever since he was nine and Fred and George told him boggarts and vampires lived in all the closets, the other rooms had lost their appeal. He knew, even then that they were messing with him, but it just felt spooky down there. Besides, according the twins the room he did chose to stay in was so old lady-ish that they couldn't risk any of it rubbing off on them. So they left him alone.

"They're going to be okay. The Mediwizards said they should recover fine; they'll probably wake up tomorrow afternoon… They want to know if I want to tell them the truth…"

"What do you mean?"

Hermione folded herself up on the floor at the foot of his bed and picked up a doily to fidget with as she spoke,  
"I guess it's wizard law, that underage muggleborns can have control of the medical treatment of their parents, if their parents are injured in magical ways. It's actually pretty insulting really- it treats muggle adults as if they were mentally disabled, and therefore, their care is left to me…"

She stopped to press the heels of her hands into her eyes and Ron got off the bed in order to sit down next to her.

"I don't know what I'm going to do… I want to tell them the truth, but it would be so much easier to say that they got in a car accident on the way to pick me up… I don't know what's right anymore." She paused to look at Ron. "You know, I thought Harry was so dramatic this year because he kept talking about how he was endangering us, but now I kind of know how it feels." She laughed in a harsh, unfunny way, "Maybe I'll just ask to have them completely obliviated, sent to the States, or Australia, or India, and have them forget all about me… I know, that's stupid…but at least they'd be safe." She sniffed as if she was actually considering it. "You know, with the current political environment, I could probably have myself emancipated. "I'm sure with a few decent letters expressing my magical potential the ministry wouldn't think too much about it." Her face was screwing up and her voice breaking. Ron grabbed at her hands and held them tightly.

"Hermione, stop."

She nodded a few times, breathing deeply and pulling herself back together.

"I met your Aunt Muriel."

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"She said I was a disastrously ugly girl, and then suggested I'd end up a rotten old spinster, and asked if that's why I already have a cat."

"Oh."

Hermione looked at him, waiting.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it. She's like that with everyone in the family."

Hermione wanted to press Ron to defend her more, but he did say that Muriel was awful to everyone in the family, and that meant she was in their family, and that made her heart feel warm. She leaned against his shoulder and picked the doily back up, Ron grabbed a quidditch magazine and settled in for a well-practiced pastime of avoiding adults.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello and Merry early Christmas to those of you who celebrate. I hope everyone's holidays have been love filled. Special thanks for this chapter goes to HalfBloodPrincess110 as without their awesome beta-ing, I would probably still be sitting on this chapter biting my nails on when to post. I hope you enjoy. Please consider leaving a review if you appreciate what's happened, or have ideas for what you'd like to see happen in the future. Thanks!**

Ch. 14

Summer days were dark in the musty old mansion. It was strange the quiet way grief slipped along the corners and through the cracks at the bottom of doors. It was slow, and aching, and overpowering when it oozed over a person. Sometimes things were okay. It was possible to pretend that nothing was wrong, to continue on with summer as if Harry was just at his Aunt and Uncle's, but then there would be a moment, all it took was a second really, for reality to slide into place. It was lonely, even amongst loud family members.

It was one such moment at breakfast a few weeks after the funeral. Ron had been stuffing his face with a sausage while beginning to cut into hash-browns. Hermione was looking at him with a slightly disgusted, slightly amused look as he groaned his appreciation. "Mum, these are amazing. We have to send some to…" Ron turned a pale shade of green and excused himself from the table. The happy chatter of the morning fell silent. Mrs. Weasley's sad eyes followed her youngest son's back as he left the room. Hermione placed her napkin on the table, shot an apologetic look towards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and followed him out.

She found him in his room digging under his bed searching for something.

"Ron?"

He ignored her, still on his stomach, arms stretching and pulling out knick-knacks and dusty sweaters.

"I can't believe you let your room get so messy. We haven't been here that long." She remarked leaning against the doorframe.

"Shut it, Hermione." His voice was muffled as his head was still tilt at an angle under the bed. With a grunt of triumph, he wiggled his way to freedom clutching Harry's wand. "I just wanted to hold it for a little bit. This really sucks." Summing up Harry's death as "sucks" was a vast understatement. But any other words just didn't come as naturally. The appropriate terms to express his feelings would just get stuck in the back of his throat. Hermione pushed herself off the frame and walked into the room, stepping gingerly over various scattered items.

"You've got dirt on your nose." she used her own thumb to rub of the dust stubbornly clinging to Ron as she sat down next to him.

He sniffed looking down and cradling the wand in his long fingers.

"I didn't lose it." He said.

"I'm sure you didn't."

"I just wanted to keep it hidden. You heard my mum and dad talking the other day- Dumbledore wrote them asking them for it. They weren't going to tell me yet, but… I don't know… I want to keep it."

"Yeah, this really sucks."

They were silent for a while. They were accustomed now to being together in their grief.

"Ron, do you think about school much? What it will be like this year?"

He didn't answer right away, chin tucked in towards his chest. His too-long red hair masking his eyes, and Hermione pretended she couldn't see the wetness on his cheeks when she tilted her head to look at him. He nodded a little, blinking rapidly. She nudged closer to him until their shoulders were bumping. "What should we do with the D.A?"

Ron looked up then, meeting her eyes. His pale face made his freckles stand out more.

"We have to keep it going." He said firmly. "Hermione, it's his legacy. We have to keep it going. And now…" He trailed off his mouth opening in realization. "It's up to us. We have to help end Voldemort. Harry can't have died for nothing."

Hermione nodded, but both jumped nervously as Mrs. Weasley knocked on the door twice and then let herself in.

"Mum?" questioned Ron, wiping his face.

"I thought you two would want to see this." She said with her own wet eyes searching out theirs in motherly compassion. In her outstretched hand was the Daily Prophet. Emblazoned across the front page was the top story,_ "Former High-Inquisitor at Hogwarts, Dolores Umbridge, Sentenced to Azkaban."_

* * *

"Okay, okay- Stop. STOP. Wands down. Now." Remus ran in the middle of the boys placing a hand out stretched towards each of them. Sirius was practically rolling off the sofa he was laughing so hard.

"We should have had them do this ages ago" He wiped at his eyes and repositioned himself on the couch. "Trick wands. Genius, Remus! Really!"

Harry was sporting glitter across his body, Draco's hair was pink, and both boys were glaring at each other over Remus's outstretched arms. Draco made to point at Remus, but with a quick "Expelliarmus" his wand was by Sirius's feet. Sirius was still shaking his head and laughing.

"You men should sit down. Rest a bit. That will wear off in an hour or so, right Moony?"

Both young men huffed indignantly, though they stepped away from each other. Remus collected Harry's fake wand and Sirius handed Draco's to him. They were purchased from Zonko's. This way the boys could practice dueling without actually hurting each other as none of their guardians trusted them to follow proper dueling rules and instructions. Also, as Harry was still missing his wand, the joke ones evened the playing field.

"Okay, that was pretty good, but you both have some steps to work on." Remus explained, his voice trailing off as Sirius left the room to go grab lunch from the kitchen still shaking his head. After the disastrous first few days the boys were only subtly hostile now, and their insults lacked the normal poison. Neither one of them seemed to enjoy their captivity, but at least they had stopped throwing punches. Harry still whined about not being able to talk to his friends, and Draco still mumbled insults under his breath at every opportunity, but the arrangement was working better than expected.

Draco, after the first few angry and disgruntled days, sullenly admitted that he didn't want to be a Death Eater, and since then tensions had decreased significantly. Room was tight, so the boys were forced to share "Harry's room" after Remus found an old bed in the attic, but more often than not either Harry or Draco would be on the couch in the morning after a fight. But all things considered, it was going well. All that was left was explaining it to The Order and ensuring everyone kept their mouths shut.

Sirius grabbed the plate of sandwiches and walked it back out weaving past the now dueling boys to set the tray on the coffee table.

"Ok, better… good. Alright, stop. STOP" Remus continued coaching. "Alright, let's take a break." Grumbling, but not really dissenting the boys sat down and grabbed sandwich halves off the tray, Draco only slightly wrinkling his nose as he lifted a corner of the bread.

"So, plans for the afternoon?"

Harry shrugged, but Draco actually raised his head to stare at his new "guardians," if he could call them that.

"Actually Professor Lupin, Harry and were wanting to go for a walk. We promise to say in the wards and within sight of the cottage." Draco, had developed the habit to regard all people in the cottage, sans Harry, with a polite and distancing respect.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

"Yeah, I don't see why not." It had been a few days since any of them had crossed the threshold to the outside. Generally, Sirius and Remus wanted Harry to be close as he was still experiencing visions, albeit less frequent.

"Great, thank you." Said Draco glancing at Harry quickly as if daring him to question his request.

After lunch, the boys left the house, for the first time in what seemed like years, as it did every time they took to the outside. Draco lead Harry behind the back of the cottage where it seemed more private.

Just as Harry opened his mouth to ask what the hell he wanted, Draco interrupted.

"What the bloody hell are we still doing here, Potter?!"

Harry exhaled noisily." What do you mean? You know why we're here."

"No, I mean, why are we still here? C'mon, you and your stupid friends break out of Hogwarts all the time. If you can do that, why can't we leave here."

"Well, it's not just me, and it's only been with good reason."

"Well you have me, and we have good reason. I'm smart, Potter." Harry just raised an eyebrow. "I get better grades than you at least." Draco continued, "We can escape."

"Yeah we could, and I want to see my friends, but, maybe they're better off, safer without me."

"That is such a load of Bull. You're going to waste away here for chivalry?! That's not brave, that's cowardice!" Malfoy paused in frustration. "Your friends think you're dead. They think you're gone, that they are alone. The Dark Lord has some big plans, and they can't do what you can do against him, but they're going to try. "He paused again as Harry appeared to be ignoring him. "If you don't help me get off this God-forsaken coastline than they are going to die, and you won't even be around to try to save them." Draco hissed.

"Shut up. You don't care about my friends. What do you want?"

"Fine. I want to be able to do something. We are wasting away here. With Dumbledore deciding when we'll be visible to the Order we'll probably be on house-arrest for the next ten years. We don't have ten years. I want to be able to do something now, and it's pathetic that you've just given up in all this."

"You think I've given up? That I haven't done enough?!"

"Yeah, I do. You don't get to be famous, you don't get to be noticed, to be a 'superstar', so you stop trying. You have too much responsibility. Half the stuff you want in our world you could probably get just for being you. That sucks! Do you know how much that sucks? I come from a prestigious, wealthy family, and I still have to at least prove my worth, and you don't.

"Meanwhile, I actually know some of the things that The Dark Lord is planning. I know the Death-Eaters and what they like to do for 'fun'. We can do something. But now we're both stuck dropping out of Hogwarts, when we could be doing something, but no, instead let's just sit on our asses as two dogs teach us party tricks."

"They care. This is bigger than your boredom!"

"This isn't about my boredom! Yeah! I hate it here, but Bellatrix isn't sneaking around my house, I'm not about to leave on some suicide mission, and I'm pretty sure my mum is safe. Me disappearing was good for my family. Stupid- but good, and yeah, I'm mad at Severus for dumping me in this hell-hole, but at least everything else worked out.

"But the rest of this, hiding…I am not a coward, and I think you're a lot of things, but I don't think you're a coward either. So let's do something. Let's get out."

Harry shook his head. "No. I trust Sirius. I trust Remus. If they say to wait, we should wait."

"Potter…"

Harry shook his head more to disagree, but cut off with grunt of pain.

"Harry?"

Harry shook his head, holding one hand up at Draco and his other to his forehead. "No, it's ok, I'm okay. It will be okay. But, we should go back. I need to tell them."

They walk back quietly. Harry explains his vision to Remus and Sirius when they get back in the house. They were sympathetic, but didn't offer any solutions, didn't say anything to help. Just said they'd tell Dumbledore. That night, Harry stood in the doorway of his room and stared at Draco until he looked up from his book.

"Malfoy, I'm in. Let's make a plan."


End file.
